The Mystery of the Stolen Music (5 page)
They grew silent. The fire crackled. Shadows danced across the walls and ceiling. After awhile, Henry suggested they go over the clues.
They recounted all they knew. Nothing fit together. Victor had taken the score back to the hotel. Yet, it seemed unlikely that he now knew where it was. Melody had met the mysterious man and given him something. Still, they couldn't imagine why she would have taken the music.
“So let's say neither Melody nor Victor is the thief,” Jessie summed up. “Then who is?”
Benny sighed heavily. “This is a hard one,” he said. “We'll never solve it.”
“We're good detectives, Benny,” Henry reminded him. “We'll solve it.”
Benny yawned. “Not tonight we won't.” He yawned again, put his head on his arms, and fell asleep.
Henry carried him upstairs to his room. The others followed. They were all too tired, they decided, to think another thought.
In the morning, once again, they took the bus to the hotel.
Benny was impatient to get there. “I'm hungry,” he said.
“There will be rolls and juice in the lobby,” Violet reminded him.
But Benny didn't need reminding. “That's what made me hungry,” he said. “I was thinking about it.”
“Me, too,” Soo Lee agreed.
They entered the hotel just as Janet Muller was leaving.
“Ms. Muller!” Jessie was unable to hide her surprise. “What are you doing here so early?”
Janet Muller's face turned red. “Oh â I â uh ⦔ she stammered.
“Bet you came for the sweet rolls,” Benny said.
She cleared her throat nervously. “Autographs,” she explained. “I came for autographs.”
Henry glanced around the empty lobby. “Were you able to get any?” he asked.
Janet shook her head. “I think I'll go over to the Civic Center. Maybe someone will show up there.”
“See you later,” Benny said, and skipped over to the breakfast buffet.
Soo Lee followed at his heels.
Janet Muller didn't move. She stood there as though she were about to say something.
Finally, Henry asked, “Is there something we can do for you?”
“Oh, no, thank you,” Janet said. “I was just â uh â wondering.” She cleared her throat again. “About the score â have they found out anything?”
The Aldens all shook their heads.
Janet asked several more questions. No one had the answers. When Melody stepped off the elevator, Janet mumbled something and sailed out the door.
“That was strange,” Henry commented.
“She seemed awfully nervous,” Violet added.
“You don't suppose ⦠?” Violet asked.
Jessie finished her sister's incomplete question. “That Janet Muller is the thief? I don't know.”
They joined Melody, Soo Lee, and Benny at the table. The Aldens ate heartily.
Melody didn't take a single bite. She was too nervous about her solo, she explained. “And I wanted to talk to Victor, but I can't find him,” she added.
“Maybe he's at the Center,” Henry suggested.
“He told me he was going to have breakfast in his room.”
“Maybe he forgot,” Soo Lee suggested.
Melody laughed. “You're probably right, Soo Lee.”
“Do you want to wait for him?” Jessie asked.
“No,” Melody replied. “Let's go. I have to practice.”
Victor was pacing up and down in front of the Civic Center. “There you are, Melody!” he said as they approached.
“Victor! What are you doing here?” Melody asked.
Victor looked confused. “You asked me to meet you here.”
“Yes, this
afternoon.
”
“He really is forgetful,” Benny whispered to Henry. “It's not an act, that's for sure.”
“No, no!” Victor fished in his coat pocket. “You sent me this message.” He pulled out a notepaper and handed it to Melody. “Someone from the hotel slipped it under my door.”
“Victor, meet me at the Civic Center, 8:00 A.M. Urgent!”
Melody read aloud. “It's dated today. And that looks like my signature, all right. But I did not write this note!”
V
ictor ran his fingers through his hair. “You did not write this note,” he repeated.
“No, I most certainly did not,” Melody answered. “Why would I?”
“I thought perhaps you wanted to meet to talk to me about the orchestra,” Victor said. “About how ⦠unhappy you are.”
Melody looked surprised. “Unhappy? What makes you think I'm ⦠unhappy, Victor?”
“My dear, you have been with the orchestra a long time. I know you well.” Victor put his arm around Melody's shoulders. “Now, let's get on with your practice.” He led her off toward the theater.
“What was all that about?” Benny wanted to know.
“Someone wrote Victor a note and signed Melody's name,” Jessie answered.
Benny shook his head. That was not what he had meant. “About Melody being unhappy. She doesn't look unhappy.”
“We can talk about that later,” Henry said. “Now, we have to figure out who wrote that note.”
“And why,” Jessie added.
Violin music drifted into the room.
Violet said, “Oh, we're missing Melody's practice,” and hurried toward the auditorium.
The others followed. Perhaps an idea would come to them as they listened to Melody's solo performance.
They slipped into front row seats. Down the aisle, Victor's head was bowed, and his eyes were closed. They thought he might be sleeping. On stage, Melody swayed gently as she played. She moved the bow over the strings with a light, sure touch. Under her skillful fingers, the violin seemed to come alive.
“I'll never be able to play like that,” Violet whispered.
“Sure you will,” Henry said. “It just takes practice.”
Suddenly, Benny blurted, “I know!”
Jessie, who was sitting beside him, said, “Benny, hush!”
“But I know why â !”
Violet leaned around her sister. “Shhh!” she commanded.
Grumbling to himself, Benny slumped back in his seat.
After awhile, Melody lifted her bow from the violin. Victor was on his feet before the last notes had died away.
“My dear, that was superb!” he said. “There's just one passage that still needs work.” He climbed the stage stairs to show Melody which part of the music he wanted her to try again.
Benny looked at the other Aldens. “Can I talk now?”
“What do you want to tell us?” Henry asked.
“I know why someone sent that note to Victor: To get him out of his room!”
“That makes sense,” Jessie said, “but why would anyone want Victor to leave his room?”
“Whoever did it might think the missing score is still there,” Violet suggested.
Benny nodded vigorously. “And they wanted to search for it!”
They decided to tell Victor and Melody what they suspected.
Victor listened intently. Then he nodded and said, “We must go back to the hotel immediately!” and ran up the aisle.
Melody and the Aldens ran after him.
But they were too late. Back at the hotel, they found Victor's door standing open. Inside, the room was a jumble. Drawers were overturned, their contents strewn about the floor. Sheets and pillows were pulled off the bed. Clothes lay in piles on the closet floor.
Victor picked up his garment bag and unzipped it. His tuxedo was in a heap at the bottom.
Bob Weldon came into the room. Looking at the mess over his glasses, he said, “Not you, too!”
“You mean your room was ransacked?” Melody asked.
“Yes,” Bob answered. “I went down to the dining room to meet you as you asked, Melody, and â ”
“I never asked you to meet me,” Melody interrupted.
Bob looked confused. “But your note â it said you had to see me immediately.”
“I didn't write you a note,” Melody told him.
Still confused, Bob said, “I don't have time to argue. There is too much to do.” He started to leave.
“Wait!” Victor called. “This tuxedo needs cleaning before the dress rehearsal. Please see to it.” He handed Bob the garment bag.
Bob narrowed his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said. Under his breath, he added, “Always waits till the last minute,” just loud enough for the Aldens to hear.
“We had better get back to the Civic Center,” Melody suggested. “The orchestra will be arriving.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Victor responded absently, and drifted out of the room.
Melody hung back.
“You go ahead,” Henry told her. “We'll stay here and straighten up.”
Saying, “I'm sure Victor would appreciate that,” Melody hurried off.
Benny and Soo Lee began putting things back in drawers. Jessie and Violet remade the bed. Henry put the clothes back on hangers.
“Now, we have two false notes,” Jessie said.
“I'll bet they were both written by the same person,” Benny said.
“But who?” asked Violet.
They thought about that.
Finally, Soo Lee asked, “Could it be Janet Muller?”
They remembered the scene in the hotel earlier that morning. Janet Muller had seemed uneasy. She said she was there collecting autographs. Had she lied?
“Maybe she is the one who wrote the notes,” suggested Jessie.
“What about Melody's signature?” Violet asked.
“She could have traced it from her autograph book,” Benny answered.
It was possible, they agreed.
“I'll bet she took the score, too,” Benny said.
That made sense. She had been very interested in the score that first day. And Mozart's signature would be a valuable addition to her collection.
“But if she
has
the score, why would she need to search for it?” Henry asked.
“And if she didn't need to search for the score, why would she write the notes?” Jessie added.
Benny let out a loud breath. “We don't need more questions,” he said. “We need answers.”
But no one had any.
“I
can't think about this mystery now,” Violet said. “Tomorrow is the audition for the young people's orchestra. I have to go home and practice.”
“We'll go home, too,” Jessie suggested. “We can be your audience.”
They trooped out of Victor's room to the elevator.
Outside the hotel, they were just in time to catch the bus.
When they were seated, Benny said, “This is a good idea â listening to Violet practice.” He turned to the others. “You know why?”
“Oh course we do, Benny,” Henry replied. “Listening to good music is a wonderful experience.”
“That's not the only reason,” Benny said.
Jessie laughed. “Well, don't keep us in suspense, Benny. Tell us your reason.”
“I might get an idea.”
“Yes, listening to music often gives people ideas,” Henry said.
“I mean about the mystery. I got the idea about the fake notes when Melody was playing. I might get an even better idea listening to Violet,” said Benny.
But he didn't. The minute he and the others were seated around the living room and Violet began to play, Benny forgot about the mystery. So did everyone else. They thought only about the music Violet played and how proud they were of her.
“Now, I'll play âSong of the Wind,'” she said.
The notes followed one after another, separate and clear and yet blended, like drops of water in a smoothly flowing river.
Violet played all their favorites, even “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
When she had finished, Jessie asked, “What will you play for the audition, Violet?”
Benny piped up, “Play âTwinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' I like that best.”
Everyone laughed.
“I like them all best,” Soo Lee said.
“I don't know which piece to play,” Violet said. “I think I'll let Melody choose.”
Benny got to his feet. “Now that that's settled,” he announced, “I'm hungry. It's time for lunch.”
Jessie put out sandwich fixings. That way, each of the Aldens could make his or her favorite.
Afterward, Benny raided the garbage.
“I'm going to use this cardboard tube to make a kazoo,” he said. He placed waxed paper over one end and secured it with a rubber band. Then, he hummed into it. He liked the sound it made.
Soo Lee decided to make an instrument, too. She found several different-sized bottles and arranged them according to size. When she blew across the tops, she played a melody.
All afternoon, Soo Lee and Benny kept making instruments until they had enough for all the Aldens. When Grandfather came home from the mill, they gave him a concert.
“Bravo!” he said as they took their final bows. “You sound like a real orchestra.”
“Part of what you heard was my stomach growling,” Benny told him. He was hungry again!
