The Hamster of the Baskervilles (9 page)

Ms. LaRue's bray cut through the noise like a hot sword through Jell-O. "I demand her resignation," she barked, stabbing a spiny finger at Ms. Burrower.

"Ms. Burrower's? Why?" asked Principal Zero.

"She created this, this
thing
as a science experiment, and endangered the whole school." Heidi LaRue bristled like an inside-out pincushion. "Someone could have been killed."

Mr. Zero turned to his Teacher of the Year. "Is this true?" he asked.

The mole blinked rapidly and lowered her head. "Aye," she said quietly. "It's my lunar transmogrification experiment."

The other teachers gasped and muttered among themselves.

"But I didn't intend to hurt anyone," said the mole. "I picked the quietest, mildest subject I could find: Lauren Order. And I kept her in my tunnels."

I flashed on the shy hamster I'd seen in the library, then looked at the huge hairy creature in the wheel. "
That's
a hamster?" I asked.

"A were-hamster, aye," said Ms. Burrower sadly. "The wee girl wouldn't hurt a fly; she only eats peanut butter and sunflower seeds."

Peanut butter and sunflower seeds?
That rang a distant bell in my brain. But Ms. LaRue's buzz-saw voice drowned it out.

"Wouldn't hurt a fly, eh?" she said. "This unnatural creature has been vandalizing our school all week!" The hedgehog nodded, and Luke Busy stepped forward to grab Ms. Burrower's arm in one of his massive, clawed paws.

My brain churned. How could a
hamster
have done all that damage?

Mr. Ratnose looked from the were-hamster to me. "So
that's
the culprit," he said. "Fine detective you are, Chet Gecko."

I couldn't argue with that. Ah, well.

I had visions of doughnuts with little wings. They were flying away from me. I'd have to settle for my mom's peanut butter sandwiches.... Hey!
Peanut butter!

"Wait just a minute," I said. "I know who the vandal is, and it's not the were-hamster!"

A ring of astonished faces surrounded me. They all babbled at once like a passel of preschoolers at snack time.

"Impossible," said Ms. LaRue. "The creature's guilty; I know it."

"Explain yourself, Gecko," rasped Principal Zero.

I took a deep breath and hoped my mind could keep up with my mouth. "The hamster food, that's what tipped me off," I said.

"This is ridiculous," huffed the hedgehog. "Look at the creature's feet. There were huge, muddy footprints in the vandalized classrooms—exactly like tracks from those feet."

"Let him speak," said Mr. Zero.

I nodded and began to pace. "You see, when I checked out the wreckage in Mr. Ratnose's class, I found sunflower seeds, and on the wall, just a trace of peanut butter."

"That's right," said Maureen DeBree. "I saw the what-you-call, effervescence, when we was cleaning up."

"The
evidence,
" I said. "That's right—evidence that someone, or several someones, lured the were-hamster into the trashed classroom to frame her, and cover their own tracks."

I scanned the crowd. An angry face was blasting me with laser eyes: Bosco Rebbizi. If looks could fry, I'd be a crispy critter.

"The culprit or culprits," I said, "vandalized for their own twisted purposes." Erik Nidd crept up to the circle and stared daggers at me. The tension stretched like an overstrung rubber band.

"And the culprit is...," I said, looking past Luke Busy to Bosco Rebbizi.

"It wasn't my idea!" Luke Busy exploded. "She made me do it, I swear!"

"Huh?"

The big badger pointed at Boom-Boom LaRue. "She wanted that Teacher of the Year Award, bad. She didn't want that mole lady to get it."

My head spun. "Right, so..."

"I did the damage," Luke said. "Those gashes in the wall, the tunnels on the playground—I did it all."

"You?" I said. "I mean, you! Because..."

The badger hung his massive, gray-striped head. "I'm just her smootchie-poo," he whispered. "I couldn't help myself."

"And that means...," said Natalie.

"Boom-Boom trashed the school to trash the mole lady's reputation." Luke Busy sighed.

Mr. Ratnose raised his eyebrows. "Darn, you're good," he muttered to me. I tipped my hat.

"Lies! All lies!" hissed Ms. LaRue, backing away. She turned to flee, then tripped over a net, expertly tossed by Maureen DeBree. "You'll hear from my lawyer."

"No," said Principal Zero, "we won't. But you might want to call him from jail."

A movement caught my eye. Luke Busy had taken advantage of the hullabaloo to sneak toward an open door.

"Stop him!" I shouted.

The badger made a break for it. Just then, Cool Beans materialized in the doorway. Luke Busy tripped over the possum's outthrust foot, and fell face first—
fwamp!
—knocking himself out cold.

Cool Beans sat on the soon-to-be ex-janitor.
"Thanks for the seat, Stan," he drawled. "I'm all flaked out from the chase."

While Maureen DeBree wrapped up the culprits in duct tape, Natalie and I had a heart-to-heart with my teacher.

"Pretty fancy detective work, I must admit," said Mr. Ratnose. Natalie nudged me. "So you knew all along it was the janitor, and you tricked him into confessing?" he asked.

I looked at Natalie, she looked at me. "Absolutely," we said together. Someone who won't tell a small fib for a box of jelly doughnuts doesn't want them bad enough.

As we wandered off into the crowd to find our families, Natalie and I were waylaid by two Dirty Rotten Stinkers: Erik Nidd and Bosco Rebbizi. I clenched my fists, my tail curled.

Bosco smiled. "So you wasn't a stool pigeon after all," he said. "I was wrong about you two."

Erik grinned, revealing more sparkly fangs than a vampire beauty pageant. "Were-hamster ruckus at Science Fair," he boomed. "Great stunt! Better than Bosco's. How'd ya like to be the newest Dirty Rotten Stinkers?"

I looked up at him and shook my head. "Not for all the cookies in Kowloon," I said. As we slipped past them, Erik turned in shock to Bosco. "I was
gonna show 'em the secret claw-shake, an' everything..."

As the old saying goes, I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would take someone like me as a member. Besides—and I think Natalie would agree with me on this—better a snooper than a Stinker, any day.

Has Chet bitten off
more than he can chew?
Find out in
This Gum for Hire

The stink alone should have tipped me off. I was taking a brain break on the swing set when a stench grabbed me in its funky blue fist.

It was strong enough to make a skunk blush. It smelled familiar.

Hmm,
I thought.
Cabbage and beans for breakfast?

But I didn't think fast enough.

Something snagged me in midswing—
glomp!
—and there I hung, stuck in the sky.

It was Herman the Gila Monster. He wasn't as big as Seattle, he wasn't as mean as a six-pack of hungry sharks. But the Big Bad Wolf could've learned something from Herman—his breath was strong enough to melt a brick house.

Normally, I kept my distance from the big lug. But since he'd already caught me, my best move was to play dumb.

Unfortunately, you can't play dumber than Herman without a lobotomy.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked.

I looked him over warily. Herman wore a look on his fanged face I'd call sad on anyone else.

"Gecko," he said, "I got problem."

"I've been meaning to mention that," I said. "You know, a little mouthwash—"

"Not funny," he rumbled. "Problem big."

He was serious.

I'd never figured myself as a friendly ear for schoolyard thugs, but what the heck. I bit.

"What's on your mind?" I asked. "And I use that term loosely."

Herman sighed like an avalanche on a distant mountain. "Team in trouble. Coach blame me."

The Gila monster was a fearsome football player. Several times, he'd been kicked off the team for his hijinks, but they always brought him back. Emerson Hicky Elementary took its sports seriously, and a monster on the front line is hard to find.

Like I cared about that.

"So," I asked, "why are you telling me about it?"

Herman's heavy head swung my way. "Players disappearing," he said. "Not my fault. Gecko can find players."

"Oh no. Not me," I said.

"Gecko will help," he growled. "Or Gecko will
need
help." The Gila monster shook his other fist meaningfully. I got the picture.

Then, a thought took that long, lonely trip across Herman's mind. His fangs twinkled in a smile. "Plus, Herman will pay. One chocolate cake for every player you find."

I smiled back. "That should've been the first thing you said, buddy boy. Tell the nice detective all about it."

Look for more mysteries from the Tattered Casebook
of Chet Gecko in hardcover and paperback

Case #1
The Chameleon Wore Chartreuse

Some cases start rough, some cases start easy. This one started with a dame. (That's what we private eyes call a girl.) She was cute and green and scaly. She looked like trouble and smelled like ... grasshoppers.

Shirley Chameleon came to me when her little brother, Billy, turned up missing. (I suspect she also came to spread cooties, but that's another story.) She turned on the tears. She promised me some stinkbug pie. I said I'd find the brat.

But when his trail led to a certain stinky-breathed, bad-tempered, jumbo-sized Gila monster, I thought I'd bitten off more than I could chew. Worse, I had to chew fast: If I didn't find Billy in time, it would be bye-bye, stinkbug pie.

Case #2
The Mystery of Mr. Nice

How would you know if some criminal mastermind tried to impersonate your principal? My first clue: He was nice to me.

This fiend tried everything—flattery, friendship, food—but he still couldn't keep me off the case. Natalie and I followed a trail of clues as thin as the cheese on a cafeteria hamburger. And we found a ring of corruption that went from the janitor right up to Mr. Big.

In the nick of time, we rescued Principal Zero and busted up the PTA meeting, putting a stop to the evil genius. And what thanks did we get? Just the usual. A cold handshake and a warm soda.

But that's all in a day's work for a private eye.

Case #3
Farewell, My Lunchbag

If danger is my business, then dinner is my passion. I'll take any case if the pay is right. And what pay could be better than Mothloaf Surprise?

At least that's what I thought. But in this particular case I bit off more than I could chew.

Cafeteria lady Mrs. Bagoong hired me to track down whoever was stealing her food supplies. The long, slimy trail led too close to my own backyard for comfort.

And much, much too close to my old archenemy, Jimmy "King" Cobra. Without the help of Natalie Attired and our school janitor, Maureen DeBree, I would've been gecko sushi.

Case #4
The Big Nap

My grades were lower than a salamander's slippers, and my bank account was trying to crawl under a duck's belly. So why did I take a case that didn't pay anything?