The Puzzler's Mansion (16 page)

Larry sensed someone else was here, because he snapped out of his trance. His frown was replaced by his standard expression of clownish happiness. “Winston!” he said. “Congratulations on your victory!”

“Thanks.”

“I thought I would try to get some work done,” Larry said. “Trying to sketch out some mystery ideas. I'm still intrigued by the goings-on around here! I shouldn't be happy that stuff is being stolen, but I find it genuinely inspiring!”

Larry spoke with more exclamation points than any adult Winston had ever met.

“I'll tell you something,” Larry continued, in a softer voice. He pointed to the chair next to him, and Winston sat. “I don't think Zook took the money. Maybe he took the Elgar program, because if not, you still have that whole locked-door problem. But the money out of Betty's handbag? I'm having problems with that.”

“Why?”

“Because Chase is being more watchful of him now. Zook said he was with his father the whole time during the library puzzle, and I think that's true. I was chatting with the two of them after the puzzle had been solved. Well, chatting with Chase. Zook doesn't have a lot to say for himself. But he was there the whole time.”

“So who do you think did it?” Winston asked.

Larry frowned again, however briefly. “I have a couple of ideas. They're both pretty far out there, though. The less silly notion is that Betty didn't have any money in the first place. She
thought
she did, but maybe she left it at home on the kitchen counter. I get the feeling that when her kids are around, she's a little—”

“Distracted,” said Winston.

“I was going to say
insane,
” Larry said with a laugh, “but your word is nicer. The problem with that theory, from the point of view of a would-be mystery writer, is that it doesn't solve the earlier crime. The Elgar program.”

Winston agreed this was true.

“So for that,” Larry said, “we turn to my truly wild notion. A little
idea that, if I were to make it known, might get me thrown off the premises.”

“What is it?”

Larry was silent for a moment, as if considering the wisdom of sharing his thoughts with a boy he had met only the previous day. But the idea was too good
not
to share—Winston could see that in Larry's gleaming, mischievous eyes—and so finally Larry leaned in and said . . .

“Norma.”

Winston sat back and tried not to let his mouth hang open too wide. “You think
Norma
stole the program?” he asked in a hiss of a whisper. “And the money?”

“Maybe! Only maybe. But it makes all kinds of sense. Think about it.” Larry started counting on his fingers. “She knows the house backward and forward. If anybody can get into that room and out again with the program, without waking up somebody sleeping in there, it's her.”

“But why would she do it?”

“Ah! That's two,” said Larry, holding up a pair of fingers. “She's worked for Richard for how long? Forever. And now what is Richard doing? He's giving away the artifacts of his career. What is Norma thinking? She's thinking, All that stuff is supposed to be mine. He has no right to give it away. So what does she do? She takes it.”

Winston was boggled. Did this idea make any sense? He couldn't say—he didn't know Norma well enough to guess. But her constant state of annoyance now seemed like evidence, somehow, of what she was capable of. He thought with dismay, I just gave her my cuff links.

“But why would she steal the money from Betty's purse?” Winston asked.

Larry said, “I wondered that myself. Well, here's one possible reason: to her mind, we're all here to take away things that belong to her. We didn't know that ourselves, of course, because we didn't know Richard's plans for the weekend. But still, that's her thinking—we're here to steal from her. And so she is going to punish us by stealing from
us.
” Larry considered the look on Winston's face and said, “You're not buying this.”

“I don't think I am,” Winston said honestly. Maybe she took the Elgar program, but stealing money out of somebody's wallet? He couldn't see it.

Larry nodded. “To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I buy it, either. I might use parts of it in my story, but I'm not sure I've cracked the mystery in real life. In a way, I hope I haven't.”

“Why?”

“Because if it
is
Norma . . . well, she's going to get away with it, isn't she?”

Passing through the smaller living room on his way to find Jake and Mal, Winston spied a cabinet filled with board games.
Now
we were talking. Winston looked through them and selected an interesting one he'd never seen before. He didn't think Richard would mind.

He finally found Jake and Mal in the library—they were in there looking for
him.
They were okay with playing a game, so they spread out at one of the tables and tried to figure out the rules, which unfortunately went on for many pages.

“Holy smokes,” said Mal after five minutes of reading. “Don't they have Chutes and Ladders or something? I know how to play that game.”

They didn't give up, exactly, but Winston started telling his friends
about the conversation he'd had with Larry Rossdale, and pretty soon the board game seemed not very important.

Jake was skeptical. “She's like the meanest schoolteacher ever, but I can't believe she'd steal from her boss.”

“She's not stealing from her boss,” said Mal. “She's stealing from everybody else. She knew Richard was going to give away that program, so she got to it first. Makes perfect sense to me.”

“Larry's right, though—there's no way to prove it,” Winston said. “Unless we want to break into the guesthouse and find all the stolen stuff.”

Jake laughed mirthlessly. “Too bad I forgot my ninja costume.”

They discussed it a bit more, trying to come up with some clever way of asking Norma a question so that she revealed herself as the thief. They didn't get very far on this. Through it all, Winston slid letter tiles this way and that along the tabletop.

“Okay,” said Mal. “Boredom setting in. Make us a puzzle.” Winston didn't need to be asked twice.

SHORTS

• Labyrinths

• Permit

• Stand still in midair, like a helicopter

• Wash away the dirt

• Button you press in some racing games for extra speed

• Object in space with a long tail

LONGS

• Astounds

• With a space at the center, like some logs

• Smart and witty

• Muslim headdress

• Awaken after being unconscious (2 words)

SHORTS

• “Bald” bird

• Small group, as of grapes

• Weapon for a knight at a joust

• No longer edible, perhaps

• Question the accuracy of

• Religious leader of a synagogue

LONGS

• Floppy-eared breed of dog

• Send up, as a rocket

• Position for a batter or a golfer

• Two-base baseball hit

• Cotton-tailed critter

*   *   *

From somewhere over their heads came a sudden thump. It sounded like a book falling off a shelf and hitting the floor. But they were alone in the library. Weren't they?

They all looked up. Nobody seemed to be moving around among the shelves on the upper floor.

“Hello?” Jake called.

There was a long pause, and then some movement. Amanda came out from behind a shelf, looking embarrassed and a little angry, like it was the boys' fault she had given herself away.

“Wow, you sure like hiding,” Mal said to her.

She had nothing to say to that. Gathering up her pride, she tromped down the stairs, her jaw set. She was going to weather Mal's jokes in perfect silence.

“What were you doing?” Jake asked.

“Nothing!” Amanda said. “I'm not doing anything. Just leave me alone.” She made her way to the exit and left without looking back.

The boys looked up again. “Not a lot of places to hide up there,” Jake said, which was true. The floor was only a couple of feet wide between the bookshelves and the railing. There were gaps between the bookcases, though, and someone truly determined to disappear for a while could squeeze herself in there.

“Maybe she's the thief,” Mal said. “She's sure acting suspicious enough.”

“So she stole the Elgar program she would have wound up winning?” Jake said.

“Sure,” said Mal. “She didn't know she was going to win it. Maybe she paid a little nighttime visit to the Zookster and took the program when she left. She's a piano player; she knows who Elgar is. She knew it might be valuable.”

Winston smiled. “The Zookster. I dare you to call him that.”

“I'm sure it's his real name,” said Mal. “Zook is obviously a nickname. Anyway, so she steals the thing. The next morning she solves the breakfast puzzle—sorry, Winston—and discovers she didn't have to steal the program at all. If she'd just waited, Richard would have handed it to her.”

“That sort of makes sense,” Jake said reluctantly.

“And what was she doing just now?” Winston asked, looking up to the second floor. “Stealing something else?”

“If she was, she hid it pretty well,” said Jake. “I don't think she stuffed one of these books into her pocket.”

“Don't forget she was hiding in the movie theater this morning, too,” said Mal.

“Yeah. What is it with her?” said Winston.

Jake nodded in agreement. “Even if she isn't the thief, that girl is up to something.”