Case Closed #4, page 22
But when we get down to the catacombs, I realize I still don’t know which map is the right one. And without Zip, I’m never going to know. And now that I stole from them, they’re never going to help us!
This plan was half-baked and hasty. I clearly didn’t map this out well enough.
CASE CLOSED.
I WANT TO hear what Nadira has to say. “Ms. Nadeem, why don’t you stay,” I say politely, ignoring the pout that appears on Bones’s face.
“Yes, of course—I would love to.” Nadira pulls up a chair and sits with Bones on the other side of his desk. But while Bones kicks back in his chair, Nadira sits rigid. She smooths out her clothes, and when she’s done with that, she starts picking at her nails. She looks tense. . . .
“Why are you so anxious?” Eliza asks, and I know she’s wondering the same thing I am: whether Nadira has something to hide.
Nadira smiles. “I’m very nervous about the thefts. Too much has gone missing from our storage shelves, and I’ve noticed that some members of the team have been acting rather suspiciously. Don’t you think, Mr. Bones?”
“What? Oh, yeah,” he says glumly. His tone almost makes me feel bad about inviting her to stay. Almost.
“At first, I wasn’t sure that hiring a detective was necessary, but now I’m glad Mr. Bones insisted.” Nadira leans forward and says, “So what do you want to know? I am an open book.”
And that’s when I feel confident about my decision.
* * *
TO ASK WHICH ARTIFACTS HAVE GONE MISSING, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK WHO HAS BEEN ACTING SUSPICIOUSLY, CLICK HERE.
* * *
WE HAVE TO talk to Professor Phineas Alistair Worthington. It seems clear that he has so much more information than Orlando Bones on the necklace, the history, and the tunnels. He might even have the answers to questions we don’t know how to ask.
We finally find the professor eating lunch. He doesn’t seem to be very popular—he’s all alone, a whole table to himself. Or maybe he wanted to be alone. He seems to be buried in research. He’s highlighting passages in a thick book and writing notes in the margins, and next to me, Eliza gasps loudly. She doesn’t even like writing in workbooks.
“Are you looking for me?” the professor says, adjusting his glasses.
“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” Mom says.
“We have nine hundred ninety-nine thousand billion questions,” Frank says.
Professor Worthington looks surprised. “That’s not a real number,” he says snobbishly, “but by all means.” He gestures to the empty table around him. We sit down.
“What are you reading?” Eliza asks.
“Just reviewing the story of Harmonia, daughter of gods—and her cursed necklace.”
Cursed necklace? I knew it was valuable . . . but cursed?
* * *
TO ASK ABOUT THE CURSED NECKLACE, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK ABOUT HARMONIA, CLICK HERE.
* * *
UGH. I NEED Eliza’s help. “What does this all mean? Why is there a line through the numbers? I tried connecting them all, but it didn’t work.”
She circles back to me, since Frank is shimmying down the column. “I think your idea of connecting them is an excellent idea.”
“But nothing happened. . . .”
“Did you connect them around the clockface or across the clockface?”
“What do you mean?”
She takes out her notebook and draws a clock. Then she starts drawing on it, connecting the numbers, in order, across the clock’s face.
“Eliza, it makes a two!” I shout.
She smiles. “I know.” She draws out two more clocks in her notebook. “Write it down as you go, Carlos. It makes it easier. Here are the next two.”
* * *
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 285, CLICK HERE.
IF YOU THINK THE SOLUTION IS 283, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“MR. BONES, I don’t understand,” I say. “You seem very focused on the treasure in the catacombs . . . but when we talked to Nadira yesterday, she didn’t think it was worth our time to explore down there. I thought you hired us to find the missing artifacts. We can’t change focus now! Not when we’re getting closer to our thief.”
Orlando Bones gets up. He walks to a bookshelf behind him and pulls out a giant dictionary-sized thing. Then he flips through until he stops at a picture of a sculpture: Venus de Milo by Alexandros of Antioch. I’m certain I’ve seen a picture of it before.
“A depiction of Aphrodite,” Eliza says. “The Greek goddess of love. What about it?”
“It’s not that I don’t care about the other artifacts. It’s just that the Necklace of Harmonia versus the other artifacts . . . is like the Venus de Milo versus a Play-Doh project.”
“I love Play-Doh!” Frank says. “It’s fun to eat.”
“You’re not supposed to eat that,” Eliza scolds.
“It’s colorful for my tummy!”
I shake my head and stand up, so that Mr. Bones knows I’m serious. “We are detectives, not treasure hunters, not bodyguards. I understand that the necklace is your focus, but ours is finding the missing artifacts and the thief.”
Mom beams at me proudly.
Bones scoffs. “You’re stacking the deck against me.” Then he looks down at the work on his desk and starts scribbling on papers. So we leave.
Outside, the treasure-hunting team is also gathering. All our suspects are huddled near the medical tent: Nadira, Leech, Smarty Marty, Zip, and Professor Worthington. Even Dr. Mandible—who we haven’t even talked to yet, except very briefly yesterday—has a medical kit and is prepping to go down into the tunnels. Everyone is going, it seems, except Orlando Bones, who hasn’t emerged from his tent.
As they head out, I realize now is the perfect opportunity to go through their stuff. And if I had to pick somewhere to start . . .
Our top two suspects: Nadira Nadeem and Richard Leech.
* * *
TO SEARCH NADIRA NADEEM’S DESK, CLICK HERE.
TO SEARCH RICHARD LEECH’S TENT, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I DON’T KNOW how to explain it, but instinct is calling me deeper into the catacombs. I’m like a fish on a line.
And I can just hear Eliza’s voice in my head reminding me that fish on a line end up dead. I quiet that thought.
“Just a little bit farther,” I say. “Then we’ll turn back around, I swear.”
These catacombs are unnaturally cold and surprisingly empty. When Orlando Bones said that the necklace was housed down here, I thought it would be . . . fancier? More elaborate. Instead it’s just stones and cobwebs. And so far I’ve seen no booby traps.
“Um, Carlos?” Mom says. I turn around and notice that she is stooped over. The ceiling has gotten so low that she can barely stand. “I don’t know how much farther I can go in this tunnel. It doesn’t seem to be adult sized.”
“For some reason it’s getting smaller and smaller,” Eliza says from up ahead.
“So . . . is this a dead end?” I say.
“No,” Eliza says, hunching. “I think there’s something up ahead! Come look!”
I stoop as I walk, and so does Frank, even though he technically doesn’t have to. Poor Mom, though, is finding this to be a very tight squeeze.
Up ahead is a wall with some weird symbols. Lots of triangles and circles—it looks like witchcraft.
“Alchemy,” Eliza says. “Just like the archway out—”
Thump.
It’s unmistakable—the sound of a footstep behind us.
Eliza and I go rigid. Mom whips around with the flashlight. No one’s there.
“Let’s go,” Mom says sharply.
We rush back to the exit. The person is in front of us—I can see a shadow!
THUNK. ZZZZZZT.
A fence drops in front of us, and it’s coursing with electricity. We’ve fallen right into a booby trap! But why is there electricity in this catacomb? There’s no way they had electricity in ancient Greece.
“We have to turn the electricity off!” Mom says.
“Here!” Eliza cries, pointing to a small box at the bottom of the fence. “Resetting the circuit breaker will stop the electricity! Just follow the words circuit breaker through the box—and don’t get electrocuted!” Eliza says, as Frank (of course) puts a finger out to poke the fence.
* * *
THE PATHWAY FORMS A NUMBER.
IF YOU THINK THE NUMBER IS 5, CLICK HERE.
IF YOU THINK THE NUMBER IS 2, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK ELIZA FOR A HINT, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I HAVE A hammer, right? I have to swing it toward Bones. Maybe that will keep him back!
I heave the hammer over my shoulder—it is super heavy. Then I swing it around like a baseball bat. Only—it lodges into the wall.
Rumble . . . crack!
Rocks start falling. Bones runs out of the cave, but Eliza, Frank, and I are too deep inside. “Everybody duck!” I yell.
“Duck? Where?” Frank says. “Quack quack!”
The cave collapses, and when the rumbling finally stops, I look up. There’s a wall of rocks blocking our way out. We’re trapped! Eliza claws and claws, but the rocks are too big to move. We’re stuck until Mom or someone else finds us.
I tried to be bolder . . . but I ended up boulder.
CASE CLOSED.
“WHAT EVIDENCE DO you have that someone’s been in the tunnels?” I ask.
Orlando Bones finally comes alive. There’s a twinkle in his eye, and he readjusts his fedora. It’s like he’s been waiting all day for someone to ask him this question. “First off, we haven’t been able to go very far into the tunnels. We are still waiting on Zip for maps of the catacombs. Because Keira Skelberry got so seriously injured from a booby trap, I’ve instructed everyone that we must only go inside as a team. But . . . there have been a few times we’ve gone in and found a set of muddy footprints.”
Mom looks up from her notebook. “Mud? Where did the mud come from? The dirt here is dry.”
“No idea. Clearly someone has gotten deeper into the catacombs, without the rest of us. We also found an abandoned lantern. Still warm to the touch.”
Nadira taps her foot impatiently, like this is all a waste of her time. It’s obvious that she’s not interested in talking about the catacombs.
Eliza clears her throat, and Orlando looks at her. “Is it possible,” she says, “to put a camera angling at the mouth of the catacombs? That way, you can catch the intruder on tape.”
“You must think I’m an easy mark. Tried that already, and the footage shows nothing!”
“Why do you think someone wants to get into the catacombs alone, without the rest of the team?” I ask.
“So they can steal what lies deep within—the greatest prize in the world.”
* * *
TO ASK ABOUT THE GREATEST PRIZE IN THE WORLD, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I DECIDE TO go with Eliza’s idea—hide from Mr. Bones.
Eliza and I crouch behind Nadira Nadeem’s desk, and Frank dives under Orlando Bones’s desk.
“MR. BONES!” Smarty calls repeatedly until he comes in.
I can tell he’s already annoyed. He crosses the room, and I hold my breath.
“You called for me?” Bones marches across the tent and sits down at his desk. He puts his feet out . . . right on Frank. “What the—what are you doing here?”
“That’s what I called to tell you!” Smarty says. “Someone’s in trouble!”
“What are you kids doing in here?” Bones says. “And why aren’t you investigating where I asked you to investigate?”
“Cause!” Frank says.
“Cause why?”
“BEcause!”
Bones growls in frustration. “Where are the other two?”
Smarty points in our direction.
“I thought I told you where the next theft is going to happen—in the catacombs. I thought I told you that the Necklace of Harmonia was more important than all the other artifacts combined.”
“You—”
“I blame myself,” Bones interrupts loudly. “I bet on the wrong horse. Clearly detective work isn’t your forte.”
It sounds like we’re getting fired. But we can’t get fired. “Please, Mr. Bones, don’t fire us!”
“Fire you?” He laughs. “I paid for your time. So I’m reassigning you. From now on, you’ll be on artifact cleaning duty. Wear gloves and goggles. Smarty here will set you up with tiny brushes. I think you’ll find that this is a much better line of work for you.”
One tiny mistake, and we’ve been brushed aside.
CASE CLOSED.
UGH. FIGURING OUT Dr. Mandible’s password feels like filling out a worksheet for science class. I need help.
I look over at Eliza, who is buried deep in a book.
“I did my part already,” she says, without even looking up. “Ask someone else.”
Someone else? There’s only Frank, who is right now digging deep into the lollipop jar.
“I know my ZYXWVUTs,” he says, reciting the alphabet backward. That’s right—he’s just starting to read. But what help could he really give me on a puzzle that requires so much reading?
I don’t understand. Eliza loves puzzles. She always gives me help. Maybe if I ask really nicely and flatter her a bit . . .
Or maybe I should just give in to the idea of Frank.
* * *
TO ASK ELIZA FOR ANOTHER HINT, CLICK HERE.
TO ASK FRANK FOR A HINT, CLICK HERE.
* * *
I’LL TOSS A trowel across the parking lot. Since it’s made of steel, it’s sure to make a noise when it hits the concrete. Smarty will investigate, and that’s when we’ll climb into her trunk.
I pitch the trowel across the parking lot. Perfect practice for Little League. Only—throwing a trowel is nothing like throwing a baseball. And it’s not going nearly as far as I intended. In fact, it’s headed right for—
CRASH.
The trowel hits Smarty’s front windshield, and the glass spiderwebs into a thousand pieces.
Smarty shrieks—first in surprise, then in anger.
“Quick!” I say, pulling Eliza and Frank toward Smarty’s car. Maybe we can still hide in her trunk. But she’s circling her car like a shark around its prey. “YOU!” she says, lunging toward us. She grabs my backpack, pulls the zipper open, and sees nineteen trowels inside. “You’ll pay for this!”
Unfortunately, the evidence against us was overwhelming. And the car repairs were more than we could afford.
Las Pistas Detective Agency was forced to throw in the trowel.
CASE CLOSED.
“CAN WE LOOK at the disk, Mr. Bones?”
He nods and slides it across his desk. “Be very careful.”
Eliza and I move closer. The snakes crisscross the face, like they’re tangled in a giant knot. All around the snakes, in a border around the top of the disk, are Greek letters . . . but different from the letters that are on the side.
“What does the message say on the top?” I ask.
“You’ll have to ask Nadira . . . or Professor Worthington. I don’t know Greek at all. I don’t even know classical studies that well. I’m definitely the brawn, and not the brains, of this operation.”
It seems weird that he would be leading this expedition if he doesn’t know anything about Greece or classical studies, and I can tell Eliza feels the same from the way she purses her lips.
“How did you get this job again, Mr. Bones?” Eliza asks.
“The lead archaeologist, Keira Skelberry, and I are old pals—we’ve worked a few digs together. Played some bang-up games of poker after hours. She phoned me, and I’m here because the timing worked out.”
“She called you from the hospital?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, she fell into one of those ancient booby traps after the task force arrived on the scene. One day after we arrived.”
I look at Mom, whose face is stony.
“Here,” he says cheerfully, gesturing to the disk. “Check this out! It’s like the royal flush of artifacts!”
Delicately, I pick it up. It’s surprisingly heavy.
“We haven’t been able to do anything with it,” Orlando says after I put it down again.
“Because it’s a puzzle,” Eliza says.
* * *
TO ASK FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THE HISTORY OF THE NECKLACE, CLICK HERE.
TO END THE CONVERSATION, CLICK HERE.
* * *
“DO YOU KNOW where my mom is?” I ask Professor Phineas Alistair Worthington.
“I gave her directions to the last known location of the Necklace of Harmonia yesterday. That is all I know.”
I squint at him. Is it possible that he could have followed Mom? Intercepted her? Kidnapped her?
“You told Smarty where to find the ruins?” Eliza asks.
“Indeed.”
So now Professor Worthington and Smarty have jumped to the top of my suspect list. “What else did you tell Smarty?”
“I gave her some information about Harmonia—she was very curious about that. Of course, the moment she insulted me, I abruptly concluded our mini lesson and refused to share any more of my knowledge. Hence the quarrel you’ve just witnessed.”
“What did you talk to her about?” I ask.
“The necklace and these catacombs. I stopped short of telling her how Harmonia died.”
