Sly the Sleuth and the Food Mysteries (7 page)

BOOK: Sly the Sleuth and the Food Mysteries
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“Careful, Brian,” I said. “Blow first.”
Brian blew on his apple. He put a spoonful in his mouth. “Ow!”
“Blow more.”
“So,” said Melody, “tell us the details, Jack.”
That was one of my sleuth lines. I kicked Melody under the table.
“Ow,” said Melody.
“Blow first,” said Brian.
“That's not why I said ‘Ow,'” said Melody. “I haven't even taken a bite yet.” She glared at me.
“Go ahead, Jack,” I said. “Talk.”
“For the last three days I've gone to Princess's house—”
“What?” said Melody. Her face fell.
“—to talk with Mr. Monti—”
“Oh,” breathed Melody.
“—and he chose the right orange for me from his sunroom and gave it to me—”
“Why were you talking to Mr. Monti?” asked Melody.“And what do you mean, he chose an orange for you? Why didn't you choose one yourself?”
Those were the obvious questions. I kicked Melody under the table again.
“Ow!”
I felt bad. It wasn't nice to kick. But I was the sleuth.What was the matter with Melody? In the future I would question my client in private. For now, though, I was stuck.
“Well?” I said.
“I like to meet Mr. Monti as he gets home from work,” said Jack. “We talk.”
“Talk about what?”
Jack stuffed his mouth with baked apple.
“Are you trying to avoid answering?” I asked.
“Blllmgr,”
mumbled Jack.
“Stop eating long enough to answer.”
“Well ... ” Jack looked down. “I can't tell you.”
I frowned. “Jack, this is dumb.Why can't you tell us something so simple?”
“Because then you'll know why I want the oranges. And it's a secret.”
“What do you mean?” said Melody.“There's only one reason to want oranges. To eat them.”
“That's not my reason,” said Jack. He stuffed his mouth with baked apple.
Melody and Brian and I waited for Jack to say more.
“Tell us,” said Brian at last.
“No. But you have to believe me: It's a good reason. Anyway, I put the orange in my backpack. All three times. But when I got home, it was gone.”
“Gone,” said Brian sadly. “All gone.”
“Right.” Jack took another bite. “I never even got the chance to use the orange. Someone stole it from me. Every time. Find out who, Sly.”
Use the orange? How does someone use an orange?
“Did you check your backpack the instant you got home?”
“Of course,” said Jack. “And it was gone.”
“Did you stop anywhere on your way home?”
“Nope.”
“Did you bump into anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Does your backpack have holes?”
“I already thought of that.” Jack held his chin up. “None of them are big enough for an orange to fall through.”
This seemed like an easy problem to solve. “Next time Mr. Monti gives you an orange, hold it in your hand all the way home.”
“But then Princess will see. She always comes out to say good-bye when I leave.”
One missing orange, that was an annoyance. Two missing oranges, that was a pity. But three missing oranges? That was a pattern.
I looked out the window at the clean, white snow. I got an idea. It was unlikely. But a good sleuth checks every possibility. “Stay here. All of you. I'll be back.”
Snow
I stood outside Princess's house.
Should I take Jack's case? Princess was my friend. I didn't want to spy on my friend's house.
But Jack was really upset.
A little investigation couldn't hurt.
Princess's front walk had not yet been shoveled. Good.There were many sets of footprints in the snow. Some of them were on top of others. So it was hard to be sure how many.
There were no footprints in the snow on the front grass.
I looked along one side of Princess's yard. Then I looked along the other side.
There were no footprints in the snow on the side grass.
I walked around the block to the house behind Princess's. It was big and blue. I had no idea who lived there.
It is not a good idea to walk through the yard of strangers. They might get mad. Or they might get afraid. They could call the police.
I rang the doorbell.
A man answered. He leaned on a cane. “What can I do for you, little lady?”
“Could I please go in your backyard? I want to look at the rear of my friend's house. She lives behind you.”
“She's your friend, huh? So why don't you just walk around the side of her house to look at the rear?”
“I don't want anyone in her house to see me.”
“That sounds suspicious,” said the man.
“I'm a sleuth,” I said. “I run a detective agency. So the things I do sound suspicious. But they're not really.”
The man pursed his lips. “What's your name?”
“Sly.”
Now he pulled on his earlobe. “What's your real name?”
“Sylvia.”
“I had a cat named Sylvia once. Okay.” He shut the door.
Okay? Did he mean it was okay for me to go in his yard?
My father laughs at the funny things kids say. But adults say funny things too.
I ran around to the back of his yard. I peeked into Princess's yard.
There were no footprints in Princess's backyard.
Misting
I went home. Jack and Brian and Melody were playing dominoes in the porch.
“Did you find out who the thief is already?” asked Jack.
“No. Come with me.”
“Can I come too?” asked Brian.
“There might be sleuthing to do. Stay with Melody.”
Melody looked crushed. I knew she wanted to come. But then she perked up. “We can go ice-skating.”
“I love ice-skating,” said Brian.
Melody and Brian left through the porch door.
Jack and I went out the front door.
“Where are we going?” asked Jack.
“To Princess's. You went there yesterday, right?”
“I told you. After school Noah and I kicked around the soccer ball a while. Then we split and I went to talk to Mr. Monti.”
“Was it snowing when you left Princess's house?” I asked.
“No. It had already stopped.
“Good,” I said.
“Good? Sometimes you don't make sense, Sly.” Jack kicked his soccer ball into a mound of snow. Then into another. Then into another.
I led the way up Princess's front walk. Jack stashed his ball beside the door. I rang the bell.
Princess's father answered. He was tall. And he had a long mustache. And a lot of spiky hair. He looked sort of like an upside-down broom.
“Hello, Mr. Monti,” I said. “Is Princess home?”
“Come in, come in.” Mr. Monti smiled big. He stepped aside so we could pass.
“Hello.” Princess came running to the door. She held a bucket. “Oh, it's you. I thought it was Noah.” She handed me the bucket. “It's my job to do the trees. You're just in time to help.”
She got another bucket for Jack. And she took one too. She led us to her front yard. “Fill your buckets with snow.”
We filled our buckets with snow.
I had no idea what was going on. But this was fun.
We followed Princess back inside.
She dumped the snow into a pot. She heated it on the stove. The snow melted.
Cooking snow was batty. But it was still fun.
Next she filled plastic bottles with the melted snow. The bottles had little hoses on them. And a squirter at the end.
We went into the sunroom armed with our squirter bottles. Princess squirted an orange tree up near the top.
Jack walked over to a pot. He put his finger in the dirt. He squirted the dirt.
“Stop,” said Princess.
“But it's dry. And, hey, you don't know so much, Princess. Plants drink through their roots. Not their leaves.”
Princess laughed. “We're not watering. We're misting. In winter we water once a week. But we mist every day. Like this.” She squirted high in a tree. “Try to get the whole tree.Top to bottom.”
“What good does misting do?” asked Jack.
“They need humidity,” said Princess.
“Why use melted snow?” asked Jack.
“There's salt in tap water. It's bad for the trees.”
“What happens when there's no snow?” asked Jack.
He sure was full of questions.
“We use distilled water. But after we finish misting today, we can fill lots of buckets with snow. That way we'll have enough for the whole week.”
I looked at Jack.
But he didn't have any more questions.
We misted all those trees.
Then we stood in a little group.We admired our work.
I finally saw my chance. “Hey, Princess, did anyone visit your house last night?”
“No. My father went out and got us a video. Our whole family likes to curl up together on the couch when it snows.”
“What about this morning?”
“What?”
“Did anyone visit your house this morning?”
Princess gave me a cockeyed smile. “You two.” She laughed.
“Besides us,” I said.
“No. What's this all about?”
“Just asking.”
Lunch
“Wait here,” said Princess. She left us in the sunroom.
Jack looked over his shoulder. “Have you got any leads on my case?” he whispered.
“Maybe.”
Princess came back. “Want to stay for lunch?”
“Sure,” said Jack.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Do you like gorgonzola?” asked Princess.
“What's gorgonzola?” I asked.
“It's smelly cheese.”
“How smelly?” asked Jack.
“Very.”
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“I love it,” said Princess.
“I'll try it,” I said.
“The smellier, the better,” said Jack.
We sat at the table with Princess's mother and father and her big sister, Angel.
We ate polenta with gorgonzola. It was really corn mush with blue cheese. But they called it polenta with gorgonzola.
It was fabulous.
Afterward Mr. Monti brought out a bowl of oranges.
Jack threw me a quick look.
“Are those from your trees?” I asked Mr. Monti.
“Of course,” said Mr. Monti. “Aren't they beautiful?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Monti and Jack exchanged glances.
Princess grabbed the bowl. She took two oranges and passed the bowl. Away from Jack.
“Hey, I want one,” said Jack.
“I know,” said Princess. “I'll fix it for you.”
“I don't want you to,” said Jack.
“I've seen you eat apple cores.You'll probably just eat the orange whole too,” said Princess.
“So you're the one,” said Angel. “I heard all about you. That's gross.”
“Gross and dangerous,” said Princess. “I already told you that, Jack.”
Dangerous?
Princess peeled an orange.
“It's red,” I yelped.
“Blood oranges,” said Princess.
“Aw, cool,” said Jack. “Blood.”
“That's just the name. Because the flesh is red.” Princess divided the orange into sections. She popped the seeds out onto her plate. She gave the seedless sections to Jack.
BOOK: Sly the Sleuth and the Food Mysteries
13.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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