Case Closed #4, page 2
“You are naive,” the squat man says. “But what can one expect from someone so juvenile?”
Eliza flushes angrily.
And so do I. We might be on awkward terms, but Eliza is still my best friend, and I can’t let them insult her. “Hey! Eliza is the smartest person in the world! What do you know, anyway?”
Frank blows a raspberry. “I don’t like you, and I don’t like you either. GUILTY!”
“My sincerest apologies, young academic,” the British man says to Eliza. “I did not mean to slight you. I am Phineas Alistair Worthington, professor of classical studies at Bonington University.”
“I am the lead curator for several museums in North America. My name is Richard Leech.”
“And you’re sorry,” I insist.
“Sure,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet.
“How did you two come to be working on this special task force?” Mom asks.
Richard Leech rubs his goatee. “Orlando Bones and I became acquainted on a dig in North America. Many of the artifacts he found ended up in my possession.”
“You mean your museum’s possession,” Eliza says, correcting him.
“Potato, potahto,” he mumbles.
Professor Phineas Alistair Worthington snorts. “Well, I am here not through tenuous connections to Mr. Bones, but rather because I am the upmost authority on the Necklace of Harmonia.”
“The what?” I ask.
“Oh, we don’t have time for this!” Smarty says, tapping her foot impatiently. “Mr. Bones is expecting you now. He’s a very busy man, and I’m a perfect intern.” Smarty doesn’t notice, but I do: Richard Leech and Professor Worthington both make mocking faces behind her back. “You can always come back for a history lesson!”
“I look forward to it,” the professor says with a tip of his head.
Finally Smarty pulls us into the bosses’ tent. This one is big and well lit, which is surprising, coming from Zip’s dark work environment.
“Oho! You’re here!” bellows a boisterous white man. He’s wearing a fedora, and his face underneath is a little sweaty and dirty. He looks like he’s in his forties, or maybe fifties. His forehead has a few deep grooves, and he’s got lines like parentheses that connect his mouth to his nose. His warm brown eyes look tired, but his smile is bright. “Thank you so much for rolling the dice on this case.”
“Thank you for flying us,” I say. “And for hiring Las Pistas Detective Agency.”
“Well, when the chips are down, I’ve got to get professional help in here. I’m sure you’re exhausted, but we have much to discuss, if you don’t mind. That’ll be all, Smarty.”
“Can I stay?”
“Can a two and a seven win a hand of poker?” Bones replies. Smarty looks confused. “No,” he clarifies.
Smarty opens her mouth, and she seems like she’s halfway between yelling at her boss and asking for a promotion. But instead she says, “Yes, sir, Mr. Bones.” Then she turns on her heel and marches out.
“Got rid of Smarty much easier than usual!” Orlando Bones says. “Don’t know if you noticed, but she’s kind of a know-it-all. Nadira’s hire. She introduced herself as Smarty on the first day. Says it’s her nickname from grade school, but I’d bet my bottom dollar it wasn’t supposed to be a compliment. Anyway, enough about Smarty. Let’s chat.”
“Okay,” I say. “Can you describe—”
“Not here!” Bones says with a wave of his hand. “Somewhere private.”
“This isn’t private?” Eliza asks.
Orlando Bones shakes his head. “Nadira’s back here. Nadira!”
The curtain divider rustles, and a woman pops her head out. “Did you need me, Mr. Bones? I have an appointment in ten minutes,” she says. She has an accent that I think is French. She’s wearing a pale pink hijab that is shockingly clean, considering all the dirt on the dig site. She’s got light brown skin, thick eyebrows, and prominent cheekbones.
“This is Nadira, my number two.”
Frank snickers. Of course.
“No, not that number two,” Orlando says, horrified. “Let me start over. This is my right-hand woman, Nadira Nadeem. Second-in-command. Expert archaeologist. We’re the ultimate treasure-recovering team. We’re two of a kind!”
“In that case,” Mom says, “would you want to have this initial conversation together?”
“No, no, Nadira’s busy.”
“Perhaps I should stay,” Nadira says. “I have strong suspicions about who might be taking our artifacts.”
Orlando Bones blanches. “Oh, well, uh . . . I’m sure you can talk to Nadira later.”
“Unfortunately not. Busy, busy day—Zip and I are doing some imaging scans for our next voyage into the tunnels later. Professor Worthington and I are scouring an ancient Greek text for mentions of Harmonia. After that, our team is supposed to go into the tunnels, no? Oh, and I almost forgot—I’m supposed to contact Keira’s relatives and update them on her emergency surgery.” She checks her watch and whimpers. “Oh, dear! I’m already behind in my work. Now’s the only time I can squeeze you in today!”
Nadira seems organized and frantic, both at the same time. Kind of how Eliza gets right before a big test. I wish I could give Nadira an A+. I know that always helps Eliza breathe easier.
Bones stares at us, basically begging with his eyes. He clearly doesn’t want Nadira around for this conversation. Does that mean he suspects her? After all that two-of-a-kind talk? Did we call his bluff?
If we include Nadira in this chat, then Bones might withhold information. On the other hand, it sounds like Nadira has some suspicions we need to hear.
I don’t want to miss out on what either of them has to say, but this conversation can only go one way.
* * *
TO TALK TO ORLANDO BONES ALONE, CLICK HERE.
TO INVITE NADIRA NADEEM TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS CONVERSATION, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I DECIDE TO give in to what my best friend wants. “Let’s go to the ruins. You win, Eliza.”
The smile on her face is so bright that it’s almost worth putting my plans on pause. “Oh, thank you, Carlos! You won’t regret it! Let me get the address from Professor Worthington.”
“I’ll see if I can borrow Smarty Marty’s car,” Mom offers.
“And I’ll . . . DO IMPORTANT STUFF TOO,” Frank says as he plops onto the dirt and starts wiggling his tooth.
I sit down next to Frank. Even though this choice means putting the catacombs on hold, and even though it wasn’t my idea, I’m actually excited to see these ruins and possibly learn the dark, cursed history of the necklace.
Fifteen minutes later, Eliza has the address plugged into her phone, and Mom has the keys to Smarty’s car, and Frank still hasn’t removed his tooth. The drive is half an hour from the dig site, through mountains and valleys, with the wind blowing through our open car windows.
When we get to the ruins, at the top of a hill, there’s no one around. The house that burned down was made of tan stone, but there’s almost nothing left—just the bones. Frank climbs into the center, and Eliza follows him. Not to be outdone by the Thompsons, Mom and I hop in too. I’m standing in what must have been the living room. The paint on the walls is fading, the rock is crumbling, and there’s an old, rusty clockface on the wall that I’m surprised has lasted this long.
I walk through the ruins, but this house is just a skeleton of its former self now, with a few vertical columns and a few horizontal ones. Moss blankets everything. We can’t see any of the char marks from the fire. Time must have worn those away.
“Well, it was a good try, Eliza. Should we go back to the catacombs now?” I say eagerly.
“Wait.” She is staring intensely at the clock with no hands. I wonder if they burned away.
“I saw that too . . . it’s really sturdy. Can’t believe that’s the only thing that survived the fire!”
“It shouldn’t be here.” Eliza pulls on the clock, but it’s totally stuck to the wall. “Clockfaces weren’t invented until the eleventh century—hundreds of years after the fire supposedly happened.”
“So?”
“So . . . someone came along later and attached this to the ruins. It’s a clue—I know it.” She searches the sides and cries out. “Look! A sequence of numbers! Carved into the metal here. It has to do with the clockface, I’m sure of it.”
“Sequence of numbers for what?” I ask, just as Frank hollers, “LAND HO!”
I look up. Frank has climbed near the top of a column in record time. I roll my eyes. Typical Frank.
“Frankie!” Eliza shouts. “Get down from there! It’s dangerous!”
“Danger is fun!” Frank says.
“You have until the count of three,” Mom yells.
“NO!”
With Mom and Eliza distracted, I can solve the clock puzzle and prove my worth. I just have to figure out what the numbers are for. Do I add them up? Do I have to trace the numbers in order? Is there a pattern I need to understand? I’m determined to get this.
* * *
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 285, CLICK HERE.
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 289, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK ELIZA FOR HELP, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m doing this.
“Okay, Frank. You can feed your garlic bread to the snakes.” It sounds far-fetched, but maybe they’ll like Italian food? I know I do!
“Here, Buster. Come here!”
“Buster?”
“I named them. That’s Buster. That’s Buster Two. That’s Buster Three.”
“I get the picture.”
“That’s Penelope. That’s Alexandra. That’s Benjamin. That’s Mike, Michael, Mikey, and Michelangelo.”
“Frankie? Focus!” Eliza says.
“Here you go, Rumplesnakeskin,” Frank says, tossing the bread at a particularly thick snake. It quickly glides away. “Nooooo, stop running away when I’m trying to share! Sharing is caring! Now take my garlic bread!”
It’s the oddest thing—any time Frank approaches a snake with garlic bread, it slithers away from him. It’s like he’s wearing snake repellent or something.
“Serpents must hate the smell of garlic!” Eliza says excitedly. “This is amazing! Science at work!”
We each take two pieces of garlic bread and hold them in front of us. The snakes hiss angrily, but they back away. Each step we take clears a path.
At the end of the room is an archway, and we find ourselves at the top of a staircase, looking down at a huge maze.
“A labyrinth,” Eliza says breathlessly. “They’re so pivotal in Greek mythology.”
“What’s a lab or rinse?” Frank asks.
“A labyrinth is a giant, elaborate, unsolvable maze meant to hold the Minotaur.”
“Oh. And what’s a minosaur?”
“The Minotaur is a monster with the head and tail of a bull and the body of a man.”
I frown. “So basically we’re facing an unsolvable maze and there might be a monster inside?”
“Precisely.” Eliza kneels, reaches into her backpack, and retrieves a book. “See those symbols? In ancient Greece, letters stood in for numbers, and I think that’s what’s happening here. Oooh, look at this chart in my book!”
“So . . . why are these numbers in the maze?”
“They must be markers that guide your way. We should pay attention to which ones we pass, so we don’t get lost.”
* * *
ADD UP THE NUMBERS YOU PASS THROUGH IN THE MAZE.
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 244, CLICK HERE.
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 224, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK ELIZA FOR A HINT, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“SO . . . WHAT EXACTLY is this treasure in the catacombs?” I ask Bones, and Eliza leans forward eagerly in her seat.
“Something more valuable than all the gold in the world,” Orlando Bones whispers, swiveling his desk chair as he slowly and dramatically looks at each of us.
“Bubble gum?” Frank says. “Bubble wrap? Bubble baths!”
“It doesn’t just have to be bubbles,” I say.
“Oh,” Frank says. He thinks for a moment. “Cats!”
I look over to Orlando Bones to see if he regrets hiring us yet, but he seems amused.
“More valuable than riches,” Eliza says thoughtfully. “Knowledge. Is it a library?” Only Eliza would think that a library is more valuable than all the gold in the world!
Mom consults her notebook. “Earlier, two different people—Nadira Nadeem and Professor Phineas Alistair Worthington—mentioned something about Harmonia. Perhaps that’s a clue for us. Mr. Bones, can you elaborate on what that is?”
He grins. “Bingo! At the end of the tunnels . . . we think . . . lies the Necklace of Harmonia.” He pauses like he’s waiting for oohs and ahhs, but the shock and awe never comes.
“What’s the Necklace of Harmonia?” I ask.
“It’s an ancient necklace, said to bestow eternal youth and beauty.”
Eliza snorts. When we all turn to look at her, she flushes. “Well, that’s impossible, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?” Bones says. He’s disagreeing with her, but he’s not argumentative or angry about it—it’s like he’s excited by the possibility of a good debate. “Open your mind! Impossible is a word for the terribly unimaginative.”
Eliza looks wounded. I dislike how Bones said that . . . but I can’t disagree with the content of what he said.
This isn’t the first time Eliza and I have disagreed about the supernatural. Eliza’s a big believer in logic. To her, everything can be explained with sound reasoning and thorough analysis. But me? I know there are things in this world that defy explanation—things that are magical or mystical.
Maybe this Necklace of Harmonia is one of those things.
“What makes you so certain that the Necklace of Harmonia is down there?” Mom asks.
“Because of this,” Orlando Bones says, gesturing behind him. He turns around, opens a locked cabinet, and fetches a disk out of it. He puts it on the table, where we all can see.
It’s old. Very old. It’s circular, made of stone, and has painted golden snakes curling their way across the face. There are letters all around the edge . . . Greek letters.
“We found this artifact sitting on a plinth right inside the mouth of the catacombs. It tells us everything we need to know.”
Frank leans forward. “It does? It’s all Greek to me!”
“Me too,” Bones admits. “But Nadira has studied Greek, and she translated. The inscription around the side tells of an ancient and powerful necklace that lies deep within a tomb, for anyone brave enough to seek it out.”
“I’m brave!” Frank shouts.
Bones bounces excitedly in his chair. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”
* * *
TO ASK FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THE HISTORY OF THE NECKLACE, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK TO EXAMINE THE DISK, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“WHICH ARTIFACTS HAVE gone missing?” I ask Nadira.
“Too many,” she says. She consults her clipboard. “From the archaic period, three vases. From the classical period, a bust and a hair ornament. From the Hellenistic period, coins. And a golden armband that we found near the catacombs, which was stolen before we could catalog it. Altogether, these artifacts are worth hundreds of thousands of euros.”
“So when did the thefts start?” Eliza asks.
“One day after the special task force arrived. The same day Keira Skelberry was put in the hospital. Before then, no issues. That’s why Mr. Bones and I are convinced the thief is part of our team, and not Keira’s. Right, Mr. Bones?”
He grunts noncommittally.
Is it just me, or is Orlando Bones being sulky about letting Nadira stay in the room? He reminds me of Frank when someone tells him no.
* * *
TO ASK WHAT HAPPENED TO KEIRA SKELBERRY, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK ABOUT THE SUSPICIOUS MEMBERS OF THE SPECIAL TASK FORCE, CLICK HERE.
* * *
WE DRIVE FOR a long time. It must be at least an hour or two before we stop at a town and purchase supplies for hiking and water so we don’t get dehydrated. We also grab sandwiches, which we eat back in the car. After lunch on the go, Frank wiggles his tooth aggressively until he falls asleep in the back seat. Eliza is reading, of course. Mom and I are quietly talking about the case, about school, about nothing at all.
I start to notice it about halfway through our journey: a silver car behind us. Its front windows are tinted dark, so I can’t see who’s driving it. It’s staying far enough away that it’s not immediately on our tail. But after it keeps pace with us for fifteen minutes, my alarm bells are ringing.
“Mom, Eliza . . . maybe I’m just paranoid, but I think that silver car is following us.”
Mom looks in her rearview mirror, and Eliza stops reading to turn around.
“What should we do?” Eliza asks.
There’s not much we can do. Especially when we need to reach Mount Olympus as soon as possible—we just can’t afford any detours. As far as I see, we have two options. Ask Mom to floor it and go so fast that we lose our pursuer. Or ask Mom to slow down, so we can catch a glimpse of our pursuer’s face.
* * *
TO ASK MOM TO FLOOR IT, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK MOM TO SLOW DOWN, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“HAVE YOU SEEN my mom?” I ask Dr. Amanda Mandible.
She shakes her head and looks confused—the first genuine expression I’ve ever seen her make. Either that, or she’s a good actress. “What do you mean?”
