The Great Gold Robbery (12 page)

“Heh, heh,” Charlie laughed, looking at his brothers. “Super robbers, did you guys hear that?”

“Heh, heh,” Betty said. “We’re not exactly small potatoes, huh?”

Nilly’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “What?” he said. “You’re kidding. You don’t mean that—that you guys—”

“Heh, heh,” Alfie said. “And it wasn’t just the diamond we stole either, eh, boys?”

“Not
just
the diamond?” Nilly exclaimed, astounded.

“Nope,” said Alfie, putting out his own cigar. “Brazil’s gold reserve. Norway’s gold reserve. We struck in three different parts of the world in three
weeks.”

“You above-average hoodlums!” Nilly exclaimed. “You guys are my idols! Who’d you guys do all these jobs for?”

“Why are you asking about that?” Alfie said.

Nilly stuffed his spoon into his mouth. “You guys aren’t smart enough to do this on your own, so . . .” Nilly stopped eating. Looked up. Found all three of them staring at him.
“I mean
dumb
enough to do this on your own, heh-heh.”

“So . . . ,” Alfie said slowly. “Thaaaaat’s what you meant?”

“’Course,” Nilly said, gulping. “It’s a lot smarter to just do the job and get paid for it than to be the
idiot
who has to store the diamond and all that
gold while secret agents from at least three countries are trying to track it down. Right?”

“Oh,” Charlie said. “The guy we did it for isn’t as dumb as you think.”

“Who was it?” Nilly quickly asked.

“You don’t need to be sticking your peanut nose into that,” Alfie said. “But it just so happens that he’s storing the gold somewhere where
no one
can find
it.”

“Pooh,” Nilly said. “Then it must be locked behind three thick armored doors in a bank vault so well protected that not even I could get in there.”

“Heh-heh,” Charlie laughed.

“Heh-heh,” Betty laughed.

“Heh-heh,” Alfie laughed.

“You don’t mean,” Nilly said, his eyes opening wide, “that he actually
has
a vault like that?”

“You wouldn’t get in there, no way, little guy,” Alfie said. “It’s widely considered the world’s safest vault. Pick-proof, atomic-bomb-proof, even
Crunch-Brother-proof.”

“Yup,” Betty said. “It will withstand absolutely everything. Impossible to break into. It has infrared and outfrayellow rays that are impossible even for a guy your size to get
past.”

“Yup,” Charlie said. “And even if some invisible ghost who knew all the codes got to it, the innermost vault has motion detectors that go off the instant the diamond or any of
the gold is moved.”

“Ugh,” Nilly said. “Where is this vault—OW!”

A strong thumb and index finger were pinching one of his ears, lifting him off his seat. The fingers belonged to Mama Crunch, who had just walked in and was now whispering into Nilly’s
aching ear, “You have very big ears for such a little guy, pipsqueak.
Too
big, if you ask me. And you know what they say: Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Do they say that?” Nilly moaned, his eyes brimming with tears from the pain.

“So if you don’t want to end up like that cat, maybe you should concentrate on eating.”

“Good suggestion, Mrs. Crunch,” Nilly said. “Brilliant suggestion, actually.”

She let go, and he dropped back down into his chair.

Nilly looked around. It was eerily quiet in the dark room, and he was surrounded by creepily staring eyes.

“Well, well,” he said, brushing his hands together. “Would you look at the time! I think I really ought to thank you for a lovely meal.” He hopped down from the chair,
walked quickly toward the door, and hoped that no one would yell “Stop” or “Freeze.”

“Stop!” Alfie yelled.

“Freeze!” Betty yelled.

Nilly’s feet froze on the floor. He wasn’t looking forward to whatever was coming next.

“You forgot this.”

Nilly slowly turned around and saw that Charlie was holding something out.

“Oh that, yes,” Nilly said, grabbing his cigar. “I’ll see if I can’t manage to set my bed on fire tonight, heh-heh!”

Exactly three seconds later he was out the door.

THE FOG HAD settled like thick pea soup over the streets of London, and Nilly hurried back toward his hotel through the London darkness. The streets and alleys that had been so
crowded and lively in the daylight were now a labyrinth, devoid of people, lit only by a few streetlights wearing gray fog hats. And the few sounds Nilly could hear weren’t cozy or homey in
the least. Trickling and rattling and rustling, the deep sighs of a few drips falling from gutters and eaves and windowsills. Muffled complaints and wailing from behind walls and doors. A sudden,
chilling shriek from nowhere.

“Wasn’t it here?” he mumbled to himself, and turned left.

Walked a little ways.

“Wasn’t it here?” he mumbled, and turned right.

He said this mostly to hear his own voice. And a little to convince himself that he knew where he was, because he had no idea. And the alleys seemed like they were just getting narrower, darker,
and more deserted.

“Wasn’t it here?” he mumbled again.

“No, it most certainly wasn’t.”

He was just going to keep on moving when it occurred to him that that last answer hadn’t come from him. The voice had come from somewhere just behind him.

Nilly turned around. And a figure in a hat and trench coat stepped out of the darkness.

“Gulp,” Nilly said, swiveling back around to run. But a second figure stepped out of the darkness ahead of him. This one was also wearing a hat and a trench coat with an upturned
collar. He was surrounded!

“Who—who are you?” Nilly asked, looking for a way out.

“Jack,” the first one said. “Jack Jekyll.”

“Ripper,” the second one said. “Ripper Hyde.”

They closed in even more.

“And . . . what you guys want is . . . ,” Nilly said, “to, uh . . .”

“We want what you have,” Jekyll said, reaching inside his coat for something.

“But—but all I have is a half-chewed wad of gum wrapped up in paper,” Nilly said, pressing himself back against the wall. “Or, well, I also have this cigar. Practically
unsmoked. Top of the line. Rolled on the thighs of a beautiful Cuban cigar roller. So I’m awfully reluctant to part with it, hard-core smoker that I am. But go ahead, just take it.”

“We mean, we want the information you have,” Jekyll said, holding out the thing he’d pulled out of his coat. It was a business card with his picture on it. Next to his name,
above the picture—in all caps—it said
H.R.H.E.M.S.S.

“We work for Her Royal Highness’s Even More Secret Service,” Hyde said. “And we’ve been in touch with our Norwegian colleagues, Helge and Hallgeir. We’ve been
tailing you since you landed in London.”

“Oh?” Nilly said, relieved.

“Yes,” Jekyll said. “But why are you in this alley? This isn’t anywhere near your hotel.”

“Oh, that,” Nilly said, sticking his cigar in his mouth. “I just wanted to take a little evening stroll to clear my mind.” He tapped his finger lightly on his forehead.
“And there’s a lot of brains up here to clear up, so it takes an extra-long stroll.”

“Could we go back to your hotel now and discuss the case?” Jekyll asked.

“Sure,” Nilly said.

They stood there looking at one another for a few seconds.

“You can go first,” Nilly said.

Then they went.

DOCTOR PROCTOR AND Lisa opened the door, and Nilly introduced them to the two British agents.

“Please forget our names,” Jekyll said, taking off his coat. “Just call us Agent One and Agent Two.”

“No double
O
in front of that?” Lisa asked.

“Double
O
?” Hyde asked, sounding surprised and adjusting his tie. “Why would there be?”

“No reason,” Lisa said. “Are you guys just coming from a wedding?”

“What do you mean?” Jekyll asked.

“Well, you guys are wearing . . . uh, well, tuxedos.”

The two men obviously had no idea what she was talking about.

“Let’s get started,” Hyde said. “What happened?”

They sat down and explained everything. Lisa explained about the money they’d taken from Nilly’s Monopoly game and put in the baby carriage, about their disguises, and the mock
mugging in the park. And Nilly described fleeing the scene, the bank deposit, and the super-secure bank vault the Crunch Brothers had told him about, where the gold and the diamond were being
kept.

“Hmm,” Jekyll said, tugging on his handlebar mustache as he listened to Nilly’s description of the vault. “There’s only one vault in London, well, in the whole
world, that has both infrared and outfrayellow rays
and
motion detectors. And that’s the vault at the Bank of the Very Rich.”

“And where’s that?” Doctor Proctor asked.

“Oh, it’s not far away,” Hyde said.

“More specifically,” Jekyll began, and then moved over to the window and pointed, “it’s right there.”

Everyone else ran over to him. The fog had miraculously just burned off, in typical English fashion, and London lay below them, glittering in the darkness.

“There?” Nilly asked.

“There,” Jekyll said.

“Inside Big Ben?” Lisa asked.

“The actual bank is in the Parliament building under the tower,” Hyde said. “The government used to meet in that building, but it got bought up and now it’s a private
bank.”

“Someone
bought
the Parliament?” Doctor Proctor asked in his Scottish accent. “Who—”

“Who do you think?” Hyde said. “There’s only one person willing to pay whatever it takes to get
exactly
what he wants.”

“Rublov,” Lisa said. “Maximus Rublov.”

“You hit the nail on the head,” Jekyll said.

“But . . . why would Rublov agree to store the stolen gold?” Doctor Proctor asked. “It even says Bank of Norway right on the gold bar.”

“Elementary, my dear Doctor Proctor,” Lisa said. “Maximus Rublov must be behind all the robberies. The Crunch Brothers were working for him.”

“But—but what would a rich man like him want with so much money?” Doctor Proctor asked.

“Just as elementary,” Lisa said, but then didn’t say anything else. She just watched the others as they stood there, scratching their heads.

“Come on, don’t be so dim,” she said.

“Of course,” Doctor Proctor said, smacking himself on the forehead.

“What?” Nilly yelled, hopping up and down impatiently. “What?”

“She means that he needed the extra money to buy that superexpensive soccer player no one could afford to buy,” Doctor Proctor said.

“Ibranaldovez,” Lisa said.

There were a couple of seconds of silence while everyone let this sink in.

“Okay,” Nilly said. “But then we’ve found the Norwegian gold reserve. Now you secret service guys can just arrest Rublov and go get the Bank of Norway’s gold bar
back for us.”

Jack Jekyll smacked his lips and shook his head. Ripper Hyde shook his head and smacked his lips.

“We can’t just arrest a man as important as Rublov without any evidence,” Jekyll said.

“Then he’ll just buy all of Buckingham Palace and kick out the Queen along with her entire Her Royal Highness’s Even More Secret Service,” Hyde said.

“Then the Queen would be out of a job, and so would we,” Jekyll said.

“Which would mean that, unfortunately, we can’t help you,” Hyde said.

“Actually, sooner the opposite,” Jekyll said, cocking his head and wiggling his eyebrows at Hyde in a funny way. “If you guys are planning to break into the Bank of the Very
Rich to take your gold bar back on your own, we’re going to have to arrest you.”

“Ach, but we dunnae have any plans to—” Doctor Proctor began, but was interrupted by Hyde’s unnaturally high voice: “So we’d best be going now before we hear
any of you suggest anything like that.”

“But if you should happen to find any stolen goods in Rublov’s bank vault,” Jekyll continued, “of course we would be thrilled. Because then we’d have the evidence
we need to put Rublov in jail.”

“Before he has a chance to buy Buckingham Palace,” Hyde said, putting on his trench coat. A piece of paper

sailed out of his pocket and landed on the floor in front of Doctor Proctor.

“Hmm,” Jekyll said. “How odd that we happened to bring the floor plans for the bank vault with us, which sadly I’ve just lost on the floor. What a weird coincidence.
You’d almost think we suspected Rublov of these robberies.”

“Well, anyway, have a good night,” Jekyll said.

“WHAT WAS ALL that about?” Nilly asked after Jekyll and Hyde had gone.

“Don’t you get it?” Lisa said. “They want
us
to break into the vault to get them the evidence they need against Rublov.”

Doctor Proctor, who had spread out the sheet of paper Jekyll had dropped and was studying the diagrams on it, said, “But I’m afraid that might be very,
very
difficult.”

“How difficult?” Lisa asked, her brow furrowed with worry.

“Almost impossible,” Doctor Proctor said in a sorrowful voice.

“Yippee!” Nilly said. “Let’s get going!”