Case Closed #4, page 10
“That was a waste of time,” I complain.
“Was it?” Eliza says, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. She holds up a piece of paper. “Because while Dr. Amanda Mandible was busy examining you, I stole something from her pile. This looks like it will be of interest to us.”
* * *
LOOK AT ELIZA’S CLUE HERE.
* * *
I DECIDE TO look at Leech’s notes. He’s only taken one:
ARTIFACTS
jade bird statue (Song dynasty)
teacup set (Edo period)
small silver bowl (Nara period)
scarab amulet (ancient Egypt)
four canopic jars (ancient Egypt)
lekythos (Hellenistic period)
bust (classical period)
I look up. “Wait a minute. Hellenistic. Classical. I recognize those words.”
Eliza checks her notebook. “Those match up with the artifacts that have gone missing here.”
“So Leech stole them!”
“Maybe. Or maybe these are just artifacts he’s interested in getting for his museum. Perhaps his voicemail will give us some clarity.”
* * *
TO LISTEN TO LEECH’S VOICEMAIL, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“TO BE HONEST, Dr. Mandible, we found a piece of paper in your drawer that is really curious. It seems to be a list of ingredients. Can you tell us what those are for?”
“What what is for?” she says sweetly.
“The list of ingredients.”
Her toothy smile gets even more stretched.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE,” Frank says. He enters the passcode again, pulls out her ingredient list, and hands it to her. “Explain.”
She looks at the list and titters. It’s a controlled laugh. Forced.
“It’s my job to make sure the special task force remains healthy. This list contains things that are all part of a balanced diet.”
“Really?” Eliza says skeptically. “The list includes bentonite clay, charcoal, and aloe vera—are you really proposing we should eat these things?”
Dr. Mandible chuckles again. To cover up her nerves? To distract us? I’ve never met a more giggly suspect.
“You’re laughing a lot,” I point out.
“Well, you know what they say: laughter is the best medicine.”
“Actually, medicine is the best medicine,” Eliza says.
“Actually, lollipops are the best medicine,” Frank says, grabbing three more and putting them into his mouth.
“Well, this has been fun,” Amanda Mandible says, “but I really have to get back to work now.”
“But—”
She walks us to the door flap. “Goodbye, kiddos. Please stop by if you’re feeling under the weather.”
“How about over the weather?” Frank says, staring into the clouds as he exits the tent. “Or what if I’m just feeling the weather?”
She laughs and closes the door flap behind us.
“Well, that was useless,” Eliza says.
“Not really,” I say. “She’s clearly hiding something. And we got her ingredient list.”
“Ingredients for what, though? And what does that have to do with the missing artifacts?”
I don’t have an answer for that. But luckily, Frank comes to my rescue with a subject change. “Where to now? The tunnels? More tunnels? Please say the tunnels!”
“Maybe we should check in with Mr. Bones,” I say, and Eliza gives a noncommittal shrug. “We should ask him what he knows about Dr. Mandible.”
But when we arrive in the bosses’ tent, it is empty. Another perfect opportunity to snoop. Two desks. One for Orlando Bones and one for Nadira Nadeem.
* * *
TO SEARCH ORLANDO BONES’S WORKSPACE, CLICK HERE.
TO SEARCH NADIRA NADEEM’S WORKSPACE, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I ENTER IN the passcode X-Y-Z-P-D-Q, and Frank is literally dancing. “Told you, told you, told you!” he says. “Frank is always right!”
Suddenly the computer screen goes black. A skull appears on the screen. That can’t be good.
Self-destruct initiated in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.
BOOM!
The computer explodes into hundreds of pieces. Computer keys all over the floor—and parts too. Smarty Marty looks up from her work. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” she bellows. “Nadira is going to have your heads! Just wait until Mr. Bones gets a load of this!”
The commotion brings in the special task force, who all start simultaneously yelling at us for messing up Zip’s (already slow) progress. Their shouting lasts for a minute . . . five minutes . . . ten . . . thirty . . .
Where’s the escape key when I need it?
CASE CLOSED.
WE SEND FRANK through the Φ hole . . . and I hold my breath.
“Frank? You okay?” Eliza says.
The wall in front of us rotates, revealing a path forward now. And Frank stands there with a giant grin. “Holey moly, that was fun!”
I groan.
We step over the holes, and Eliza was right: only one went under the wall and back up on the other side. Who even knows where the other holes went? Glad we don’t have to find out.
We continue down the path, and when I say down, I mean down. We’re headed deeper underground. How far beneath the earth are we? And where are we going?
Frank runs up ahead, and Eliza skips after him to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. Mom and I bring up the rear.
“Carlos, I couldn’t help but overhear your discussion with Eliza. Small catacomb and all,” Mom says quietly. “You know that I think you’re brilliant, right?”
I snort. “Yeah, right.”
“Yeah. Right,” she says, dead serious. She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Just because I compliment Eliza—or Frank, for that matter—doesn’t mean I don’t also think that good thing about you. Being good at something isn’t a zero-sum game.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, where’s Mr. Bones to explain zero-sum games when I need him?” Mom jokes. “What I mean is . . . Eliza being smart doesn’t make you any less smart. You and Eliza can both be smart at the same time. You both are smart. Eliza receiving praise doesn’t take anything away from you. Got it?”
“Yeah.” I think I do, now.
“Love you, mijo.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
We hear an excited gasp from farther down the tunnel, and we run to catch up with Eliza and Frank. They’re standing beside a wall with painted words. The only problem? The words are in Greek, and none of us can read Greek.
Κάποτε απ’ τους θεούς και στους θεούς ξανά.
Επιστρέψτε το δώρο.
Αυτό δεν είναι το τέλος μα το κλειδί για σπουδαιότερα πράγματα.
With three flashlights lighting up the words, I pull out my phone and take a picture.
“What’s that for?” Eliza asks.
“We know two people who can read Greek: Nadira Nadeem and Professor Phineas Alistair Worthington. Maybe one of them can translate when we get out of here.”
“If we get out of here,” Frank says.
“When!” we all shout back at him.
We keep walking forward. At the end of the hall, there’s another wall that swivels, and the room we stumble into is empty, except for one tall pedestal in the center.
“It has to have the necklace on it!” Eliza whispers.
“What makes you say that?” I ask.
“Just look at the stem of the platform!”
Carved snakes winding all the way up . . . with red gems for eyes. If this isn’t a fancy platform for a fancy necklace, I don’t know what is!
Because the podium is so tall—and so close to a gap in the ceiling—it makes me wonder: If we had taken another way through these catacombs, would we be able to reach down to grab the treasure instead of having to climb up for it? I guess we’ll never know.
Frank hops over to the pedestal. Grabbing the snakes with his hands and using them as footholds for his feet, he scales the trunk of the podium easily. It might as well be a rock wall or a playground jungle gym.
“This seems too easy,” I mumble.
“Don’t forget,” Eliza says, “we had to do a lot to get to this point.”
“There’s a necklace up here!” Frank calls as he reaches the top. “Shiny jewelry. It’s got some gold snakes. Is this what we’re looking for?”
“Yes!” Mom, Eliza, and I all yell.
“ONE SMALL STEP FOR FRANK,” Frank says, holding his fist out dramatically. “ONE GIANT LEAP FOR FRANKKIND!”
He takes the necklace off the plinth.
Nothing happens. Thank goodness. I let out a sigh of relief as Frank climbs down with the prize and touches the ground.
But then.
The rumbling starts.
“What’s that?” Mom says.
I point my flashlight all around. Then I see it—across the room. It looks like a wave coming toward us, only it’s not water. It’s black and twitchy and a little hairy. I am frozen in horror.
“ARE THOSE SPIDERS?” Eliza shrieks.
The rumbling has awakened an army of spiders. And I don’t mean, like, ten spiders. I mean thousands of spiders. Ones that have been slumbering down here all their lives. They are fast. They are angry. And they are swiftly approaching.
“We have to get away!” Mom yells.
The spiders are so fast that if we run, they might overtake us. If we climb up and hold on to the stem of the podium, like Frank just did, we could wait them out. But I don’t see an end to the arachnid parade. Holding on for dear life might require more stamina than we have.
“CARLOS, WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?” Eliza roars.
* * *
TO HANG ON TO THE PEDESTAL UNTIL THE SPIDERS PASS, CLICK HERE.
TO RUN BACK THROUGH THE CATACOMBS TOWARD THE EXIT, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“WHAT’S IN THE catacombs that’s so valuable?”
“Pizza!” Frank says. “Macaroni and cheese! Chicken nuggets!”
I turn to Frank. “You truly think chicken nuggets have been resting for thousands of years in an underground bunker, and they’re still ready to be eaten?”
“That’s what makes them so special,” Frank says.
I snort.
“We think the catacombs house . . . the Necklace of Harmonia!” Orlando Bones says grandly, even wiggling his fingers for mystical emphasis.
“What’s the Necklace of Harmonia?” Eliza asks.
“The Necklace of Harmonia is part of an ancient legend—it’s an artifact made by the god Hephaestus. It is said to bring eternal youth and beauty to anyone who wears it.”
“It also brings death and misfortune,” Nadira says, her voice cold and hard. “We do not know for sure if the necklace is buried here—”
“Of course it is!” Bones says. “It’s here, and someone is trying to steal it! We have to get to it first—we have to save the precious artifact!”
“I do not see how this pertains to our stolen artifacts,” Nadira says. “We want the detectives to find out who took the relics off the drying rack and where they’re located. The tunnels, the Necklace of Harmonia—none of that is relevant. They should not even step foot near the catacombs, if they are doing their job properly.”
Is it just me? Or does Nadira really not want us to go into the catacombs?
Bones frowns, and in the silence, Nadira looks at her watch. Time panic registers on her face. She stands up suddenly and says, “I know the catacombs sound exciting, but please do not forget why we hired you in the first place. And that is to find the missing artifacts. That’s all. Now, if you’ll excuse me—I really do have to run!” She leaves the tent.
I turn to Orlando Bones. “Are you suspicious of Nadira? Is that why you didn’t want her in the room?”
He laughs. Very loudly. “Don’t be preposterous! If Nadira were a playing card . . . why, she’d be the ace of spades! Most valuable card in the deck!”
“Also because archaeologists carry spades?” Eliza suggests.
“Sure, sure!” he says.
I squint at him, and I honestly can’t tell if he’s lying. Maybe he really doesn’t suspect Nadira Nadeem. But then why were they fighting so much? And why was he so reluctant to bring her into the conversation? Like usual, I have more questions than answers.
Still, I think I’ve gotten all I can get out of Bones. “Thank you, Mr. Bones.”
“No matter what Nadira says, the catacombs are a good bet.” Bones dismisses us with a tip of his hat. “Best of luck!”
We file out of the tent, and I’m rearing to go.
But Eliza is wearing a deep frown. She consults her notebook, then looks at me. “Do you really think we got enough information out of that conversation, Carlos?” she says, and I can’t believe she’s being critical.
“Yes, I think that went great,” I say coolly.
“It’s just . . . I feel like the fighting really detracted from the evidence gathering.”
I feel my good mood souring. “Look,” I say softly to the huddled Las Pistas team, “I think we should check out the catacombs.”
“Kitty combs!” Frank cheers. “Going on a treasure hunt . . . X marks the spot!”
Eliza lets out a deep sigh. “But we were hired to find the thief who stole the missing artifacts, not to explore an ancient tomb.”
“But you heard Orlando—they’re connected!”
“I think Nadira’s right. Going into the tunnels won’t get us any closer to figuring out who took the artifacts. Going to the crime scene will. I think we should examine the artifact shelves for clues.”
Mom looks between us. “You both have excellent ideas. And you both make excellent points. Maybe we can take turns?”
“Well, it’s two against one!” I tell Eliza, as I put my arm around Frank.
Her cheeks turn watermelon pink. Is that embarrassment on her face, or is she mad? Who even knows anymore? I mean . . . if I’m doing majority rules, then Frank and I outnumber her. On the other hand, maybe I should cave to what Eliza wants.
* * *
TO CHECK OUT THE CRIME SCENE, CLICK HERE.
TO CHECK OUT THE CATACOMBS, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I PEEL A banana. Then I take the peel and wind up to lob it into the air as high as I can possibly throw it.
“Ooooh! I saw this on TV! Like a cartoon!” Frank says, excitedly yanking on my arm.
He changes the angle of my throw. “Frank!” I whisper-scold, as the banana peel arcs through the air like a glorious yellow football.
It lands splat on Smarty’s head.
“Ewwwwwwww!!!!” she shrieks. She looks up into the sky, clearly thinking a bird has pooped on her. I guess that worked better than I thought! Thank you, Frank!
I grab Eliza and Frank by the hands. We duck and dash to Smarty’s car, open the trunk, and climb in. There is barely enough room in this trunk for all three of us. It doesn’t help that when the car finally does start moving, we all roll to the back, very much smushed against each other.
After an extremely uncomfortable fifteen minutes, the car finally stops. I unlock the trunk from the inside before Smarty locks us in, but I hold the trunk down so it doesn’t pop up. After I’ve been holding it like that for a minute, Eliza breathes in my ear.
“I appreciate your caution, Carlos, but if I don’t get out of this trunk in the next three seconds, I’m going to scream.”
I let the trunk go, and we climb out.
We’re definitely in town. There are actually buildings here, instead of tents. There are lots of signs in Greek and people walking around. We walk down the strip until we find what we’re looking for: a craft store.
The bell dings as we open the door and walk in. There are beads, gems, glitter, and cloth everywhere.
“This is perfect!” Eliza says as she runs her hands through a bin of some of the shiniest fake jewels I’ve ever seen—in greens, blues, purples, reds, and pinks.
We purchase clay, twine, jewels, and gold paint—as much as we can afford with our emergency euros. Then we walk to a taxi line. I don’t speak the same language as the driver, so I hold up my phone and show him the address of the dig. He nods and starts driving.
In the back seat, we’re exhausted. The sun is going down. It’s been a long day, and it’s about to be a long night. Physically, because we have to forge the Necklace of Harmonia. Also emotionally, because I can’t stop thinking about Mom. Where is she? Who would kidnap her?
Which of our suspects is capable of artifact thievery and kidnapping? Now that we’re assuming the letter we got is fake, I’m starting to question everything in this case. I mean . . . do we take Richard Leech’s word for it when he says someone stole the artifacts before he could? Do we really trust Zip when they say sabotaging is their only agenda? Do we believe Orlando Bones’s explanation of his tense phone call? How much do I know about Nadira Nadeem—other than that she seemed very eager to point us toward other people? How much do I know about Smarty except that she is a huge thorn in everyone’s side?
The taxi pulls into the parking lot. Once we pay, we have no more emergency funds left. Let’s hope this works. . . .
Back in our tent, we lay out all the materials. I go to touch the clay, but Eliza swats my hand away.
“No, Carlos,” she says. “Let the master work.”
“And the master is . . . ?”
“ME!” Frank says, putting water on the clay and smushing it between his fingers.
“Um . . . Eliza, are you sure? This has to be convincing.”
“That’s why you came to me,” Frank says. “The top professional in kindergarten clay art!”
