Rock 'n' Roll Mystery (3 page)

But as they turned to go, they couldn't help overhearing Raymond say, “That's right, it looks like the Greenfield Four will lose their big chance now.”

Jessie held her breath. Who was Raymond talking to?

“They don't have anything to play with,” Raymond went on. “No guitars, no keyboards, nothing. They lost it all. Looks like you're the one who got lucky. Will you be ready to go on in their place if they can't get their act back together?” Raymond asked. “Yeah? Okay, good. Then I'll be over to give you a hand in a few minutes. Bye.”

The children hurried back outside before Raymond saw them. They watched from behind some bushes as Raymond hopped onto his bike and rode off.

“Was he talking to someone from another band?” Jessie wondered.

“Maybe we should get on our own bikes and see where he's going,” Violet suggested.

Henry nodded. “Good idea, Violet,” he replied. “Let's go.”

The Aldens were careful to follow Raymond from a safe distance—they didn't want to risk having him notice them. At one point, as they passed through the center of town, he actually stopped, turned around, and waved. But he wasn't waving at them. It was someone passing by in a car. The Aldens felt very relieved when they saw the driver wave back.

Raymond cut through town and went into one of Greenfield's quieter areas, with lots of large, beautiful homes. He turned onto Knickerbocker Road. When the Aldens reached the corner, they saw that he had disappeared!

“Where'd he go?” Violet wondered, looking in every direction.

Knickerbocker Road had tall, handsome oak trees on either side. Neighborhood children were playing on the sidewalks, and cars were parked here and there—but there was no sign of Raymond.

“I'm sure he went down this street,” Henry said, scratching his head. “Or did I imagine it?”

“Well, if you did,” Jessie told him, “then we all did!”

“Okay,” Henry replied, “then let's keep going and see what happens. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

They cycled on, watching and listening very carefully. But there was no sign of Raymond. Did he really just disappear?

“Maybe he did know we were following him and hid somewhere,” Jessie suggested. “Behind a bush or a car or something.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Henry said. “If he's sneaky enough to steal all those instruments without anyone knowing, then he's probably sneaky enough to—”

Henry's bicycle suddenly squealed to a stop. The other three Aldens stopped right behind him. He had spotted a house with its garage door up.

“Look!” Henry said.

Raymond's bicycle was parked in the driveway. But what really caught the Aldens' attention was the open garage. Inside, the garage looked like a rehearsal studio. There was a drum kit, several keyboards, one big piano, a collection of horns, a few guitars—including one that had a very unusual design. Violet gasped when she saw that the body was painted with bright autumn leaves.

“It's Alan's guitar!” she whispered in shock.

The Aldens stood in the driveway and stared at the open garage.

“Are you sure this is one of the stolen guitars?” Henry asked Violet. Violet nodded. The children knew Violet had a good eye for details.

“It has to be Alan's guitar,” Jessie put in. “He said it was custom-made.”

“And now it's over there!” Benny said.

“But who lives here?” Jessie wondered—“Whose house is this?”

“I don't know,” Henry said, “but I'll bet it's the same person Raymond was talking to on the phone before. Let's wait and see if someone comes out.” Henry got off his bicycle and set it against a nearby tree. The other Aldens did the same.

They didn't have to wait long. A door inside the garage opened, and a tall figure stepped out from inside the house.

“Oh, my!” Violet said. “That's—”

“Danny Duellman!” Jessie finished. “I remember seeing his face on some of those posters!”

Henry was nodding slowly. “Of course—it all makes perfect sense. If the Greenfield Four couldn't play tomorrow night, then Danny and the Duotones would take their place.”

“And his band would get to play in front of the man from the record company!” Jessie added.

“So Danny Duellman robbed the Greenfield Four?” Violet asked, stunned.

Danny Duellman didn't notice the Aldens standing out on the sidewalk. He went over to Alan's guitar, lifted it gently off its stand, and set it carefully into a case. He then closed the case and locked it.
Was he trying to hide it? Jessie
wondered.

“Excuse me,” Henry said.

Danny turned quickly; he wasn't expecting anyone to be there.

“We're friends of the Greenfield Four,” Jessie said, taking a deep breath, “and we'd like to ask you a question about that guitar.” At that moment, the door leading into the house opened again, and the children looked up.
Is Raymond here?
Jessie thought. But it wasn't Raymond. It was Alan Keller.

What was the leader of the Greenfield Four doing here?

Alan seemed as surprised as they were.

“Why, it's the Aldens,” he said. “Have you met my friend Danny Duellman?”

The Aldens couldn't believe their ears—Danny was Alan's friend?

Danny walked over to them with his hand out. “It's very nice to meet all of you. I'm the lead singer for Danny and the Duotones.” Then he made sure to add, “Maybe you've heard of us?”

Still shocked, Jessie managed to say, “Uh, sure. We've heard of you.”

“Well, that's good news,” Danny went on. “And what were you about to ask me?”

“That guitar you just put away,” Jessie began, suddenly feeling much less certain of the situation. “Isn't that … Alan, isn't that your guitar?”

Violet added, “We thought we saw it at the rehearsal studio yesterday. You were playing it.”

“Playing it?” Alan said. “No, I wasn't play—oh, wait a minute.” He could see that the Aldens needed an explanation. “That guitar looks like one of a kind,” he began, and the children nodded. “But really, there are
two.
I have one, and Danny has the other. We had them both painted by an artist friend a few years ago.”

“Ohhhh,” the Aldens said altogether.

“There are no others like them in the world,” Danny added.

“But aren't you two … rivals?” Jessie asked.

“Sure,” Alan said. “Rivals, but not enemies. Actually, the fact that we're both trying to get the same things is what makes us so good. It makes us try harder.”

“That's right,” Danny continued. “I always try to be better than Alan, and he tries to be better than me. We've been doing this for years. See?” He pointed to some framed pictures that were hanging on the wall. They were more old flyers from when both bands played years ago. The children also couldn't help noticing that some of them said “The Greenfield Five” and even “The Greenfield Six.”

“You used to have more people in your group?” Jessie asked Alan.

“Yes. We've had many people come and go,” Alan replied. “Same with Danny.”

Danny sighed. “It's hard to find good musicians who all play well together, but sooner or later you do. That's why Alan's band is going to become world-famous before mine. He's found that magical mix of people. I'm still waiting for that to happen.”

Alan smiled. “One day it'll happen, Danny. I promise. And I can't thank you enough for your help.” He turned to the Aldens. “Danny is loaning me this guitar,” he explained. “We hope the Greenfield Four can still play tomorrow night, if we borrow enough instruments.”

“What if you can't?” asked Benny.

“Then my band will play in their place,” Danny said. “But I'd hate for that to happen. Everyone at the festival wants to see the Greenfield Four tomorrow.” He looked thoughtful. “I guess it would be a lucky break if I played. But if the Duotones ever make it big, it shouldn't be just because we're lucky. It ought to be because we're talented and work hard, just like Alan and his band.”

The Aldens could see that Danny was a good friend to Alan.

Danny went on. “Today we're calling every musician in town to see if they can help out the Greenfield Four. Raymond, our roadie, is on the phone right now. He works for the Duotones, the Greenfield Four, and other bands, so he knows plenty of people.”

The children exchanged looks with each other. Now they knew why Raymond had come here—he worked for Danny's band, too. Just then, Raymond came into the garage holding a cordless phone.

“I just heard a band over in Silver City has a spare bass guitar,” he told Danny and Alan. “I'll call them next.”

“Can we help?” Jessie asked.

“I heard you're already helping out,” Raymond said. “Alan told me you're looking for clues about the thief.”

“We sure are!” said Benny.

“We wanted to ask you about the security alarm at the rehearsal studio, actually,” said Henry. “Does anyone else besides you and the band have the code number?”

“No,” Raymond replied. “I know for a fact that only the five of us have the code. There was an old code, but I changed it to 463534—GNFLD4—just to be safe. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out how someone got in.”

“So have we,” said Henry. Jessie, Violet, and Benny nodded.

“I'm glad Raymond isn't the thief,” said Violet. “Or Danny Duellman.”

Jessie agreed. “And it's nice that they're both helping out the Greenfield Four.”

The girls were at the rehearsal studio unpacking bags of sandwiches. Henry was opening up the soda, and Benny was counting napkins. The children didn't have any new clues, but they still wanted to be helpful, so they decided to bring lunch to the band.

“Still, we're right back where we started with this mystery,” Henry said.

“Don't feel bad,” Karen said. She was sitting nearby, with a guitar on her lap. She'd borrowed it from a friend and was trying to tune it. “You tried your best. The police aren't having any luck, either.”

Dave, the drummer, was also there. “We'll have to do the best we can with all this borrowed stuff,” Dave grumbled. “I'm glad I could find another set of cymbals, but I think I could get a better sound out of a bunch of garbage-can lids.” He tapped them a few times with a drumstick and frowned.

Karen said, “He's right—we'll just have to work with what we've got and hope everything sounds okay.” She strummed the borrowed guitar again and sighed. “This doesn't sound right. I need to go to Lessenger's to buy some new strings.”

When Karen mentioned the music store, Jessie sat up straight in her chair.

“I just remembered! This morning, after Benny and I helped Mr. Lessenger set up the Instrument Petting Zoo, I noticed something,” she said. “I'm not sure if it's a clue or not, but it was certainly odd. You know that boy Tim who works there?”

“He has dark messy hair, right?” Henry asked. “Sort of quiet?”

“That's him!” said Benny.

“Well, after we finished setting up the tent, Tim told Mr. Lessenger he was going right back to the store,” Jessie went on. “But he didn't do that.” She told the others how she had spotted him talking to a girl with a long ponytail at the festival grounds.

“Maybe that was his girlfriend,” Violet suggested.

“I don't think so,” said Jessie. “They shook hands, as if they didn't know each other. And then he kept looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one was watching.”

“They could have been talking about anything,” Henry pointed out.

“I suppose,” Jessie said. “But … I don't know. I just have a feeling that he could be involved somehow. Just a hunch.”

“Why don't we go to Lessenger's Music Store and pick up Karen's guitar strings?” said Henry. “Maybe Tim will be there.”

“Good idea,” said Violet.

“I second that,” said Karen, fishing money out of her purse to pay for the guitar strings. She handed the bills to Jessie. “Good luck,” she said.

Lessenger's was an exciting place if you loved music. One room had nothing but drums and cymbals, another had brass horns like trumpets and trombones. There was a room only for guitars, and another for recording equipment. And there was always music playing in the store—not just from the speakers in the ceiling, but from shoppers trying out instruments.

The children didn't see Tim or Mr. Lessenger when they first walked in, but it didn't take long to find them. They heard Mr. Lessenger's voice coming from the guitar room—and they were surprised at how angry he sounded.

“If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times: do not buy a used instrument unless I see it first!”

The Aldens went over to the doorway Behind the counter, Mr. Lessenger stood and scolded Tim.

“I know,” Tim said sheepishly, “and I'm sorry. It just seemed like such a good deal.”

“That's exactly why you should have been suspicious!” Mr. Lessenger replied. “A deal that seems too good to be true usually is! Now the store is out three hundred dollars!” he went on. “If this happens again, Tim …” He sighed. “Well, let's just hope it doesn't, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim answered.

Mr. Lessenger disappeared into his office, closing the door with a slam.

Tim stood there for a moment, looking upset. Then he spotted the Aldens and tried his best to put on a smile.

“Hi, can I help you with something?”

The Aldens weren't sure what to do or say, either. That had been such a nasty scene!

Jessie finally said, “Uh, you're Tim, aren't you?”

“Yeah, Tim the fool. That's my full name. Do I know you?”