The Homemade Stuffing Caper Page 7

  Eddie sat back in his chair. “Let’s just say I’ve got the inside scoop. But my contact couldn’t get a copy of the answer. That’s where you come in, Charlie.”

  “Oh, really?” I was less than thrilled at the thought of becoming an accomplice of Fast Eddie’s.

  “Yeah. You help me solve this brain buster and I’ll give you ten percent of the winnings. Then I’ll be more than paid up. What do you say?”

  “Ten percent?” Henry said. “That’s an insult. Let me show you to the door, Mr. Akers.” Henry grabbed Eddie by the elbow and lifted him from the chair.

  “Wait, wait, wait! I’m a reasonable guy. What’ll it take?”

  I looked at my partner. Henry handled all negotiations.

  “Fifty percent or no deal,” Henry said.

  “Awwww!” Eddie whined. “Listen, I’m the one takin’ all the risks.”

  “And Charlie could walk into that store at noon tomorrow and win the fifty bucks legitimately,” Henry fired back. “As a matter of fact, I think that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Okay, okay. Fifty percent it is,” Eddie said as he pulled a paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “Are ya ready?”

  I looked at my watch. I needed to make this quick. “Fire away,” I said. “And hurry up.”

  Henry shook his head, grabbed a handful of darts, and began tossing.

  “Okay, here goes,” Eddie said.

  Henry stopped in mid-toss. “For Pete’s sake, what is it?”

  “Okay, okay. Here you go: When does the number fourteen fall between nine and eleven?”

  I rested my elbows on the table in thought. I had never heard this one before. As the minutes passed, I began to panic. I couldn’t believe I was stumped. I was expecting to hit a home run and run out the door. This was downright embarrassing. I scribbled some numbers on a piece of scratch paper. Nothing.

  “C’mon, Charlie, think,” Eddie said.

  “Hey, don’t pressure him,” Henry warned. His last dart barely missed the bull’s-eye. “Ooh.”

  I sighed. I was a beaten man. “Eddie, I’m sorry. I just don’t know.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Henry said. He apparently had never heard me utter those words before.

  “No, I mean it. “I can’t figure it out.” I glanced over my shoulder at Henry. “What do you think?”

  He froze. First, he saw me fail to produce an answer. Then, he was asked for advice. He rolled a dart between his forefinger and thumb and thought hard. He stared a hole through the dartboard. His face reddened. Then I noticed a sparkle in his eye.

  “Look,” Henry shouted, pointing at the dartboard. The number fourteen was between the numbers nine and eleven.

  “English darts, of course.” I jumped from my chair and high-fived my friend.

  “Thanks, boys,” Eddie said as the door slammed behind him. His mission accomplished, Fast Eddie was gone … with the correct answer … and a step closer to a crisp new Ulysses S. Grant. I doubted I’d ever see that twenty-five dollars.

  Henry folded his arms and flashed one of those I-told-you-so smiles.

  “I know, I know,” I said, as I folded up the card table. “Sorry, but I gotta get going.”

  “Now are you gonna tell me where you’re going?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Henry could always tell when I was hiding something. He stood there with his head cocked to one side. He knew I’d eventually cave in. We both knew it. Oh, what the heck. After that last brain buster, maybe I should have more respect for Henry’s reasoning skills. He solved it, not me. Plus, he was my best friend. We were partners … in here … and everywhere else. I’m sure Eugene would understand. Although just to be safe, I wouldn’t tell Eugene that I had betrayed his confidence. Ooh, that sounded bad. I wouldn’t tell him that I had accidentally spilled the beans. Yeah, that was better.

  “All right, I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell another soul.” I wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. “So you know Eugene? From the library? He’s got an office on the other side of town.”

  “What kind of office?”

  I should have told him to sit down. This was gonna be a blockbuster. “Well, it’s kind of like this place … but the real thing.”

  “He’s got an office in a garage?”

  He wasn’t making this easy. “No, he runs his own private detective agency.”

  Henry looked at me, then burst out laughing.

  “I’m serious. Eugene is a professional private investigator. He’s been doing it for years. He worked for Naval Intelligence during the war, and after that he joined the CIA.”

  Henry grinned. “Okay, Charlie, if you don’t want to tell me where you’re going, that’s fine. But don’t treat me like an idiot. I’d rather you say nothing than lie to me.”

  “Henry, it’s the truth. I swear it.”

  “Are you meeting a girl? Please don’t tell me it’s Scarlett Alexander.”

  “It’s not Scarlett. I told you, it’s Eugene.”

  “Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Henry rolled his eyes and left.

  What had just happened? What did I do wrong? I broke my promise not to tell anyone. And then my best friend turned on me. This wasn’t fair at all. I told the truth. Bad things aren’t supposed to happen when you tell the truth. The same thing happened to Sam Solomon in Episode #5—The Dues and Don’ts Caper. Sam had been hired by a well-known East Coast company to investigate a union steward who was suspected of siphoning funds from the membership’s retirement account. When Sam informed his client that an executive VP, and not the union official, was the corrupt party, no one would believe him. The police were finally called in, but not before thousands of dollars had disappeared. I couldn’t let the same thing happen. Even though it seemed unbelievable, I would somehow have to convince Henry that Eugene, the nice old man, the library volunteer, was actually a former government operative. This wouldn’t be easy. I knew the whole story … and I was still having a hard time believing it.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Never on a Sundae Caper

  I hopped on my bike and began my trek over to Eugene’s. A few minutes into the journey, I couldn’t help but notice something strange. There were flyers all over the neighborhood—plastered on every mailbox, streetlight, park bench, trash can, store window … you name it. I stopped to read one. It was offering a reward for a lost cockatiel. A minute later, I came across another one—asking for help in finding a lost macaw. And a few feet away, still another flyer had a picture of a missing Amazon parrot.

  I thought back to Mrs. Jansen’s comment in class about missing birds, and the story on the news. And yesterday at school, Scarlett started to tell me about her grandpa’s missing parrot. She must have had second thoughts about asking a kid to help solve a real case, though, because I hadn’t heard from her since. I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  I started to pedal even faster. Reading the flyers had slowed me down. When I spotted the old City Hall building, I knew I was about halfway there. I jumped off my bike and sat on the curb for a minute. I could tell I was burning calories. I couldn’t ever remember breathing that hard before. My mom would love this. I should tell her about all the exercise I’d be getting from now on. Wait a minute. On second thought, maybe not. Not only was I not supposed to tell her about any of this, but my gut told me she’d never approve. Best to say nothing, and just let her notice my soon-to-be slim physique.

  About fifteen minutes later, I spotted the army surplus store … and more missing-bird flyers. I was almost there. Just a few more blocks. I pedaled and panted and pedaled and panted. Then in the distance I could see Kendall Avenue, and seconds later, the barber shop. I had done it. As Grandma had instructed, I made sure that no one had seen me and proceeded to the back entrance. There was no place to lock my bike. I hoped the neighborhood was safe. I pulled open the stubborn back door and climbed the stairway. When I reached the entrance to Eugene’s office, I was just about to knock when I remembered the code—I knocked twice,
scraped my fingernails on the door and knocked three more times.

  “Come in,” Eugene’s voice was faint.

  I slowly pushed open the door.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Let’s get to work,” Eugene said as I stepped into the office.

  I closed the door, shuffled up to the desk, and sat down. “Reporting for duty, sir.” I decided on a military greeting. More official.

  Eugene leaned over and smiled. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you decided to take me up on my offer.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity.”

  “You’re quite welcome. And you didn’t tell anyone about all this, did you?”

  I knew that Eugene deserved an honest response, but since Henry was a disbeliever, I figured I’d tell him what he wanted to hear.

  “Not a soul.”

  Eugene sat back in his chair and pulled a half-eaten candy bar from his pocket. He bit off a piece, then stopped in mid-chew. “Your grandma’s not out there, is she?”

  “No. I came alone.”

  He grinned and continued his meal. “Okay, so, you ready for a little test?”

  “A test?”

  “Of course. I need to make sure you’re worthy. Although I’m really not worried. Here we go. The first thing I’d like you to do is open the safe. You see, occasionally, we’ll need a little getting-around money, and you’d better know where it’s kept.”

  “What safe exactly are you talking about?”

  Eugene shook his head. He seemed disappointed. “And you call yourself a fan?” He sighed, reached for a magazine on the desk, and began flipping pages. “Let me know when you find it.”

  Okay now. This was no time to panic. For some reason, he was under the impression that I would know how to find this safe. But why would he think that? I looked around. Wait a minute! I remembered that this place was a replica of Sam Solomon’s office. I ran to the far wall and lifted the portrait of FDR from its hook. I smiled and waited for his approval.

  “Okay, now open it,” Eugene said.

  I was afraid he’d say that. I set the picture on the file cabinet, and reached for the tumbler. I spun it around. Then a second time. And a third time. I was stalling. What was that combination? This was all so frustrating. I knew it. Heck, I’d quizzed people on it. Think, Charlie.

  I turned the tumbler to 25, no 26. I was sure it was 26. Then I spun it back to … 9? Yeah, 9. Then onto … what? Of course, 37. I turned the handle, and the safe door swung open. I let out a long sigh.

  “Nicely done. But next time, pick up the pace.”

  Our attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of footsteps in the hallway. They were soon followed by a soft knock.

  Eugene pointed to the safe and whispered. “Close it up.”

  I locked it and slid the FDR portrait back into place.

  “Now get the door,” Eugene said. “Looks like we got ourselves a client.”

  I was afraid my heart would pound right through my chest. I marched to the door and flung it open. There was no one there. I knew I had heard someone knock. I poked my head into the hallway.

  Standing a few feet away, apparently second-guessing her decision, was Scarlett Alexander.

  “Charlie Collier?” she said.

  I wasn’t quite sure how to answer. I had never expected to see her here. Before I could muster up a greeting, she turned and began walking down the stairs.

  “Scarlett … wait … don’t leave.” I wasn’t about to let her get away. What was she doing here anyway? Unless … unless she was looking for me. Of course. She had followed me all the way here just to ask me to take on her case. That had to be it.

  “Can I help you in any way?” I asked.

  “I … I was looking for someone,” she said.

  “You found him,” I said proudly.

  “I was actually looking for someone else,” she said.

  I thought to myself for a minute. If she hadn’t come here to see me, then she must be looking for …

  “You mean Eugene?” I said.

  “Yes. My grandfather sent me up here to see him.”

  “He’s right in here. Come on in.” I ran back into the office.

  “Well?” Eugene said.

  “There’s a Scarlett Alexander here to see you.”

  “Does she have an appointment? We’re kinda busy.”

  I looked around the room. Who was he kidding? I decided I had better just play along.

  “I’ll check.” I scooted back into the hallway. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I just thought … you know, I think this is a mistake. Thanks anyway.”

  “No, no, no. Please come in.” I glanced at my watch. “We just happen to have an opening.”

  Scarlett reluctantly followed me into the office. I pulled out a chair for her opposite Eugene, who stood to greet her. Then I grabbed a pad and pencil and sat down.

  “Eugene Patterson, P.I. Glad to meet you, Miss Alexander, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  Eugene nodded in my direction. “This is my new associate, Mr. Collier.”

  I was an associate. A real associate. I liked the sound of it. So did Scarlett. I could tell she was impressed. There was no doubt about it.

  “So what brings you here?” Eugene said.

  “Well, my grandpa told me you might be able to help us. I think you know him,” she said. “Conor Dolan?”

  “You’re Conor’s granddaughter? Well, how do you like that.” Eugene nodded in my direction. “Conor’s my landlord. He’s the barber downstairs. We gotta take real good care of this little lady.”

  I was in complete agreement. Whatever she needed, I was on it.

  “So, Scarlett, how can I help?” Eugene said.

  “Well, do you know the parrot downstairs in my grandpa’s shop? Socrates? He’s missing. We can’t find him anywhere.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “This is the same parrot you told me about a few days ago?”

  Scarlett nodded.

  “Wait a minute,” Eugene interrupted. He turned to me. “Do you two know each other?”

  “Scarlett and I go to the same school. We’re in class together.”

  “How do you like that?” Eugene smiled. “Small world.” He sat back, folded his arms, and motioned for Scarlett to continue.

  “Well, my grandpa assumed that Socrates had somehow escaped, and that we’d probably never see him again. But I just couldn’t accept that. We looked and looked—everywhere.” She sighed. “Then I figured we might be able to hire someone who did this sort of thing—you know, someone who finds missing people and pets and stuff—and might be able to help us locate him. And I thought I knew just the right person who could help us …” She glanced in my direction.

  Right at that moment, I wanted to crawl into a hole. She had come to me in need, and I wasn’t there for her. I had really botched this up. I had to fix it.

  “But when that didn’t work out, my grandpa suggested I come up here and ask you if you might be able to help out.”

  Eugene scratched his head. “Sweetie, I’d sure like to help you. But we don’t do lost pets.” He held up his hands. “Now don’t get me wrong—I’m sure old Socrates is real special to you and your grandpa, but it’s just not one of the services we offer. I’m sorry.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Sure, one missing bird might not be a big deal, but if this was somehow related to all the other missing birds in the neighborhood, then this had all the makings of a monster case—and it just might be the big score I had been waiting for. I couldn’t sit here and let Eugene turn her away. She was hurting. She was in need. And for Pete’s sake, it was Scarlett.

  “Please, Mr. Patterson. You don’t know how important that bird is to my grandfather. They’ve gotten very attached over the years.”

  “I can appreciate that but …”

  “Why just the other day he told me that on slow days, when the shop’s empty, if it wasn’t for Socrates, he wouldn’t know what t
o do with himself.” Scarlett paused. She cocked her head slightly and smiled. “They keep each other company. They have conversations like regular people. Please help us find him.”

  “Listen, honey, your grandpa is a good friend, and you couldn’t ask for a better landlord, but I wouldn’t know where to begin. If Socrates somehow got out there”—Eugene pointed to the window—“it’s doubtful you’ll ever see him again.” He sat down and put his hands together. “Why don’t you just put up some posters in the neighborhood with the parrot’s picture on it—see if anyone may have spotted him?”

  “I just got done doing that,” she said.

  “Then you’ve done everything you can until he shows up … if he shows up.”

  Scarlett sighed. She finally seemed to accept the fact that she was not about to become Eugene’s next client. She dropped her head, rose from the chair, and turned to leave. “Thanks anyway,” she said.

  Eugene put his finger to his lips. “Now wait a minute. Maybe there is a way for you to get some help. Perhaps there’s someone else who might be of assistance.”

  “Really? Can you recommend someone?” she said.

  What was Eugene doing? He couldn’t send her away.

  “I know of someone who’d be perfect for this job,” he said. “He’s kind of young, and he hasn’t been in the business very long, but I’ve heard some great things about him. I’ll bet he just might agree to help you.”

  I had to do something. I couldn’t lose this case. I couldn’t lose Scarlett.

  “I’ll take the case, Eugene,” I said. “I’ll help her find Socrates. She doesn’t have to go anywhere else.”

  Eugene sat back in his chair and started to chuckle.

  Well, I certainly hadn’t expected that reaction. I couldn’t believe he was laughing at me. Didn’t he think I could handle it? If he’d just give me a chance, I could show him.

  “I can do it, Eugene. I know I can.”

  Eugene sat up in his chair. “I know you can too, Charlie. Don’t you get it? You were the private eye I was talking about. This’ll be good for you. Give you a chance to get your feet wet. Then with a little more experience under your belt, you’ll be all ready to tackle the really big cases.”