Case Closed #4, page 19
“Can we take the disk?” I ask.
The white skin beneath Bones’s dirt-covered face turns ashen. “No, you may not!” he says. “I—I mean, you don’t need this. This is a very valuable artifact, and I can’t let it out of my sight!” He snatches it off the table and puts it back into his locked cabinet.
“But doesn’t it have something to do with the catacombs? What if we need it?”
“You don’t need it,” he says, slamming the cabinet a little too hard for someone so concerned about a delicate artifact inside. “If you go into the tunnels, you just . . . go into the tunnels!” He waves us off. This is a definite dismissal.
We leave the tent.
“I think we should go talk to Professor Worthington,” Eliza says the moment we step outside.
“Well, I think we should check out the tunnels, just like our client told us to do,” I say.
“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Frank shouts.
Mom looks between us warily. “You both have good instincts, and the professor and the tunnels are equally pressing,” she says diplomatically.
I can tell Mom doesn’t want to intervene—she wants us to work it out. Eliza folds her arms. There’s no way we’re going to agree.
“How about Frank chooses for once?” Mom says.
I pull a candy bar out of my pocket. “Frank, if you choose me, this is yours.”
Just as he starts walking over to me, Eliza quickly says, “Frank, if you choose me, I’ll let you read my diary.”
“I’m listening,” he says.
“And you can have the good seat on the couch next movie night.”
“And?”
“You can choose the movie on my next turn.”
“ELIZA! ELIZA!” he shouts, hugging his sister.
Eliza looks obnoxiously proud of herself.
* * *
TO TALK TO PROFESSOR PHINEAS ALISTAIR WORTHINGTON, CLICK HERE.
* * *
ELIZA REALLY WANTS to confront Smarty . . . fine.
We find Smarty in the work tent at her desk, typing quicker than I’ve ever seen anyone type.
“Um, excuse me?” Eliza says.
Smarty looks at us, then looks down again at whatever she’s typing. She’s choosing to ignore us.
Eliza continues, in a louder voice this time. “We saw the email you sent to Orlando Bones.”
Smarty stops typing. She juts her jaw forward. It’s a gesture of stubbornness. She’s about to dig her heels in so deep they might as well be trowels. “So what? It’s not a crime to think my boss is incompetent.”
“Is she incompetent?” I ask.
“I thought you said you read the letter.”
“We did. We’re just trying to determine if the letter is true.”
Smarty smirks. “What is truth, anyway?” She peers at us over her glasses, which—I’ve just noticed—don’t even have prescription lenses in them. They’re just ordinary glass.
“Well, your glasses sure aren’t,” I say. “Do you even need them?”
Smarty smiles. “Well, well, well. Looks like I’ve underestimated you.” She takes off her glasses. “I have perfect twenty-twenty vision. Glasses make me look smarter. And when you look smarter, people take you more seriously. And people will take me seriously.”
“So you’re willing to lie if it’s beneficial to you?” Eliza says. “Would you lie for a promotion?”
Smarty says nothing, but her eyebrows rise and lower quickly. The involuntary gesture speaks for itself. She would lie for just about any reason.
“The email you wrote Bones is a lie,” I say.
“Or at least, seriously embellished,” Eliza adds. “You want Nadira Nadeem to be fired so you can have her job.”
“Obviously.” Smarty rolls her eyes. “I basically told you I had high ambitions from the first minute I met you. I know you’re trying to make me feel guilty, but I have no remorse whatsoever. You don’t get to accomplish your life goals before the age of thirty without cutting a few people down along the way. This is a dog-eat-dog world.”
“Dogs eat dogs?” Frank gasps, turning to his sister with wide eyes.
“It’s just an expression,” Eliza says. “It means that Smarty will do whatever it takes to have her way, even if it means hurting other people.”
“That’s rude!” Frank says. “You shouldn’t eat dogs.”
“No one’s eating dogs!” I say.
If Smarty is willing to lie and cheat her way to her goals, would she steal too? She has so much motive, but did she have means or opportunity?
I want to ask her outright if she stole the artifacts, but I also want to know more about her relationship with the Necklace of Harmonia. After all, finding the long-lost necklace would be just as fruitful for her career as finding the missing artifacts. . . .
* * *
TO ASK SMARTY IF SHE STOLE THE MISSING ARTIFACTS, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK SMARTY IF SHE’S TRYING TO FIND THE NECKLACE OF HARMONIA ON HER OWN, CLICK HERE.
* * *
HOW CAN I possibly tell Eliza all my bottled-up feelings? I just have to shove them down and make sure they never come back up again.
“I’m fine, Eliza.”
She squeezes my hand. “No, you’re not. I know you’re not.”
“I said I’m fine.”
She pulls her hand away. “How can we fix this if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong! I’m FINE.”
“Well, fine!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!’
We shout it back and forth until we’re out of breath. Turns out, this fined down our relationship completely. We can barely look at each other, let alone say anything but “Fine!”
Best friends forever?
More like best friends for never.
CASE CLOSED.
I HATE TO disappoint Eliza, but I know I’m on to something with the disk puzzle, and that means we have to go into the tunnels. But it doesn’t make disappointing Eliza any easier.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Eliza. “But I really think—”
“Fine,” she snaps. “Whatever.”
I turn to Mom, and she sighs heavily. Does that mean she thinks I chose wrong?
“Eliza,” Mom says, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, “we can split up and do both. You and Carlos can look at the tunnels while Frank and I go investigate the ruins of the fire. We can meet back up and share clues. Does that sound okay?”
Eliza thinks for a moment. Then she nods.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Frank says. “I WANT ELIZA AND CARLOS.” He grabs me around the waist and squeezes.
“Maybe we should let them, er . . . have some space?” Mom says. “Come with me, Frank.”
He hugs me tighter. “No!”
“Why doesn’t Frank stay with Carlos, and I go with you?” Eliza says, perking up.
“No!” Mom says. As Mom looks between Eliza and me, I suddenly realize what she’s doing—she’s trying to get us alone so we can talk things out and make up. That is some master-level manipulation right there.
“It’s fine,” I say. “Mom, you go. The three of us will investigate here.”
Mom hesitates. “Okay. But I don’t want to worry about your safety. Remember, Keira Skelberry ended up in the hospital from these booby traps! Promise me you won’t go deep into the tunnels until I get back. You can go in only as far as the natural light reaches. The moment you need a flashlight to see, get out.”
I sigh. If that’s what it takes to go check out the tunnels, then fine. “I promise, Mom.”
She ruffles my hair. “Thank you, kiddo.” And she takes off for the parking lot.
We start walking toward the tunnels.
There’s a tarp—or tented roof—over one side of the pit. No one is in the pit right now—not on the light side or the dark side. It’s a ghost town. All except for the fifteen trowels left in the dirt, gleaming in the sunlight. I wonder if the main dig had to go on pause, now that their lead archaeologist is in the hospital.
Then again, it seems like the treasure-hunting special task force isn’t pausing for any reason. Orlando Bones is full steam ahead.
“Look!” Frank says excitedly.
The archway that leads to the catacombs is impossible to miss. It’s a relatively small arch—about two feet taller than me—but it’s got a million serpents engraved on it, just like the disk in Bones’s office. At the top of the archway is a very faded painting of a girl. Around her neck are two serpents whose mouths form a clasp. Their tails entwine around a few gemstones. I can see now why everyone is so convinced that the necklace is down there.
“Shall we?” I say.
Frank links arms with me and practically yanks me inside. He’s even more excited than I am.
The catacombs are just as dark as Professor Worthington warned us they would be. We click on our flashlights for extra light, even though we’re just inside the mouth of the tomb. I don’t see anything here, though.
“Should we go deeper in?”
“I don’t know, Carlos. We promised your mom we’d only stay where the natural light shines until she can go with us,” says Eliza.
This is so frustrating. We wouldn’t even have had to separate from Mom if Eliza hadn’t been so stubborn about her own idea. And then I would have been able to thoroughly investigate these tunnels. It’s like we compromised, and neither of us is getting what we want.
I sigh and shine my flashlight deeper in, hoping to get a glimpse of something helpful from our spot.
Wait a second . . .
Up ahead, a large woman in a white lab coat kneels on the ground. She scoops up some dirt and puts it into a jar.
“Hey!” I shout. “What are you doing? No one’s supposed to be in here!”
She turns around.
It’s Dr. Amanda Mandible.
“Eh . . . what’s up, Doc?” Frank calls.
She yelps. Then, faster than a blink, she scoops up the jar in her hands and bolts. Amanda Mandible runs into the tunnels, farther away from the exit.
Frank starts to run after her, but I grab his shirt and pull him back. Because as much as I want to go explore the catacombs, Eliza’s right—we did promise Mom we wouldn’t. And after some of the previous trust issues Mom and I had on earlier cases, keeping my word—and her trust—is the most important thing right now.
So we go wait for Dr. Mandible at her medical tent. But after twenty minutes of waiting, I’m starting to wonder if she’s even coming.
“Bored, bored, I am so bored,” Frank groans, lying upside down on a chair.
“Me too,” I say. Then I grin. “Maybe we should look around.”
“Isn’t that risky, Carlos? What if she returns?”
“Don’t be a party pooper, Eliza!”
“But . . .”
“Let’s check her computer, drawers, cabinets—don’t!” I shout at Frank, who’s about to yank all the tongue depressors out of a jar. “We have to be careful. She can never know we poked around.”
We go to the cabinets, then check the drawers. The very bottom one looks like it’s the perfect size for holding files, but the drawer is locked with a two-digit padlock. Rats!
“What exactly are you looking for?” Eliza asks. “If Dr. Mandible stole the artifacts, it’s not like she would have hidden them here!”
“You never know,” I say. “And besides, maybe there’s some clue that will help us. Something incriminating.”
We move to her papers, and at last I find what I’m searching for. One of her papers has REMEMBER PASSCODE scribbled on the top. And there’s a whole crossword-looking thing underneath.
On the spine
Upper arm
Hip
Longest
Part of shin
On the face
Calf
Part of forearm
Collarbone
Fingers and toes
“How are we supposed to solve this?” I ask Eliza.
Eliza folds her arms.
“Come on,” I beg. “Please help?”
She points to the wall, where Dr. Mandible has a bunch of posters hanging: the digestive tract, the muscular system, and—
“Oh! The skeletal system!” I say. “You think we’re looking for bones and stuff?”
Eliza ignores me. She pulls a book out of her bag and kicks back in Dr. Mandible’s chair. This isn’t like her—she doesn’t seem to care about solving this puzzle at all, and I’ve never met a puzzle Eliza doesn’t love.
* * *
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 35, CLICK HERE.
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 39, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK ELIZA FOR A HINT, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“GET OUT OF our way, Mr. Bones,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Now, you know I can’t fold like that, Mr. Serrano.”
“Why not?” I say.
“Because I have the winning hand.”
We stare at each other. My stomach flips.
“You’re the culprit. You kidnapped my mom. You wrote the letter luring us down here. You set up the booby trap of electricity we fell into yesterday. And . . . and you stole the artifacts in the first place. You pretended to hire us to find them, but you really hired us to do exactly what we did—go into these catacombs and retrieve the necklace. Because the tunnels up ahead are small, and you couldn’t fit.”
“You’ve fulfilled your purpose. Now I’m cashing in my chips.” He snaps his fingers at the necklace. “Gimme.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Eliza asks. “Wear it?”
“It’s cursed!” Frank chimes in. “You should know that.”
“I’m going to sell it. To the highest bidder. And I will take that money and pay off all my gambling debts.”
“You’re in trouble,” I say, noticing the trickles of sweat sliding out from beneath his fedora and down his face. “That phone call we overheard—that wasn’t Keira Skelberry’s boss wanting to shut down the dig, was it? Someone was threatening you because you owe them money.”
“Neither a borrower nor a lender be.”
“Shakespeare said that,” Eliza says. “And you must have borrowed money. Now that it’s time to pay up, you don’t have it?”
“Well,” he says, eyeing the necklace hungrily. “I do now.”
My heart hammers. We have seconds to act.
* * *
TO THROW THE NECKLACE INTO THE WATER, CLICK HERE.
TO RUN BETWEEN HIS LEGS, CLICK HERE.
* * *
IF WE TACKLE him, we can stop him.
“TACKLE!” I shout.
Eliza, Frank, and I all dive at Bones, but Frank is the only one who makes contact. He hops right onto Orlando’s back, piggyback style, and Bones doesn’t even skip a beat. He keeps running.
“Byeeeeeeeeeee!” Frank calls to us as Bones makes a clean getaway.
CASE CLOSED.
WE HAVE TO hide in the maze. I grab Eliza’s and Frank’s hands and pull them down the wrong path. Eliza resists, but I squeeze her palm. Trust me.
“Hello?” Bones shouts, shining his flashlight down our pathway. We stand against the wall, completely silent, even as Frank starts clawing at my closed hand for the tooth I definitely don’t have.
We stay tight against the wall until Bones’s voice and footsteps get farther and farther away. At last it’s safe to whisper.
“What did you do, Carlos?” Eliza says. “Now he’s going to escape with the necklace and the robe—and probably find some way to trap us down here.”
“Where’s my tooth?” Frank asks.
“You’ll get it up above,” I say. Then I address Eliza. “And no. You’re usually right, but this time, I think you’re wrong.”
Eliza guides us back to the main path and through the maze. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Eliza goes to get the garlic bread out of Frank’s bag.
“Don’t,” I say. We start climbing the stairs, and I explain. “Remember when Bones surprised us after we found the robe? He said he didn’t know what we did to the snakes, but they stayed away from him.”
“Yes?” Eliza says as we reach the top step.
“Enough time has passed that the garlic smell should have worn off. So I thought I’d let Mr. Bones take the lead on this one.”
I shine my flashlight into the snake room, where Orlando Bones is on the ground, a hundred snakes wrapped around his writhing body. They’re like ropes that have tied themselves around him. He looks at us with wide eyes. “Help! Me!” he begs.
“Carlos!” Eliza says proudly. “You had an ace up your sleeve!”
“Okay, okay, but where’s my tooth?!”
We take out slices of the garlic bread and rub them on our ankles. We walk around the perimeter of the room, making sure to stay far away from Orlando Bones and the snakes in his vicinity. We get to the rope Bones used to climb down. I send Eliza and Frank up first. I see something glint in the sand. I swoop down and grab it.
“Carlos?”
“Coming!” I shout.
Twenty minutes later.
A rescue team is here to retrieve Orlando Bones from the snake pit. As much as I would have loved to let him squirm a little longer, he is the only person with information about Mom’s location. So of course we have to retrieve him.
We’re waiting for him at the mouth of the catacombs, along with the whole rest of the dig—special treasure-hunting task force and regular archaeologists alike.
First, someone carries up the robe, which Smarty Marty snatches with glee. “I’ll catalog this! Important artifact coming through!” she says snottily.
Then comes Bones, on a stretcher. He suffered a few snakebites that swelled his ankles to the size of softballs. He’s slightly delirious as he’s carried away. “I rolled snake eyes!” he whispers hoarsely. “My treasure! Get the snake!”
