Clocks and Robbers (12 page)

“What you four accomplished is astounding,” said Bill. “Years ago, Mr. Clintock left a trail of clues leading to three parcels, which we now know the Timekeepers had hidden in each of his clocks. He hoped that the society would continue on forever, but in case it did not, I suppose he wanted to be sure that the parcels would not be lost. The clues were a long lost map, one we were unaware of—but you four followed it perfectly.”

“Why did you trust us?” asked Viola.

“We spent plenty of time trying to learn if we
could,”
said Bill. “You might remember that interview you all gave to that reporter, Darlene Reese, a few weeks ago? Haven’t you wondered why the article was never published?”

“Yeah!” said Sylvester. “Whatever happened to her?”

“She’s doing just fine,” said Ms. Dzielski. “I know, because she’s my sister, as well as a member of the Timekeepers. She lives in the hills on the outskirts of town.”

“She’s not a reporter?” Viola asked, disappointed.

Ms. Dzielski shook her head. “I’m sorry. We needed to find out if you knew any more than what you’d told the
Herald.”

“But what we learned is that you all want to help people,” said Bill. “So do we. We tend to be a little more secretive than you four, but both of our groups are most definitely mysterious.”

“Which brings us to the point of this conversation,” said Ms. Dzielski. She glanced at Bill, who nodded at her. “We’d like to ask you to join us.”

The group gasped.

“You want
us
to be Timekeepers?” said Woodrow.

“Why not?” asked Bill. “You’ve proven yourselves worthy. Besides, you already know so much about us.”

“With your parents’ permission, we’d love all of you to participate,” said Ms. Dzielski.

“What would we have to do?” Viola asked.

“You could come to meetings,” said Bill. “You know where they are, don’t you?”

The four of them laughed.

“Or you could simply keep doing what you’re doing,” said Ms. Dzielski. “Being good detectives. Helping your friends, your families, the people of Moon Hollow—
that
is the spirit of the Timekeepers.”

Viola, Sylvester, Rosie, and Woodrow all looked at one another. They didn’t even need to speak, except to say one word all together: “Yes!”

“Good,” said Ms. Dzielski. “I must make one request.” She smiled at Rosie and held out her hand. “The key, please.” Rosie gave it one last squeeze, then gave it back.

“I have a question,” said Viola. “You implied Mr. Clintock’s parcels are not exactly a real treasure. If they aren’t a treasure, then what are they?”

Bill and the principal smiled. “What is it that the Timekeepers keep?” asked Bill.

Viola raised an eyebrow. “Time?”

“Exactly,” said Ms. Dzielski. “And how does one keep time?”

“Clocks?” Woodrow answered.

The principal chuckled. “True, clocks literally keep time. But years ago, when Mr. Clintock put together his plans to help build up this town and make it as special a place as he could, he and his friends decided to mark the occasion. Inside each clock is a time capsule, filled with objects that every member thought was important to the time in which they lived.”

“Phineas Galby said the Timekeepers’ treasure was priceless,” said Sylvester.

“Priceless
is a relative term,” answered Bill. “So is treasure. If we were to open the parcels,
we’d probably find letters, newspaper clippings, maybe some trophies or toys. Little things that were important to the very first members of the group. Pieces of our shared history. Yes, the items inside might get some cash at auction. But not much.”

“None of the parcels have been opened since Mr. Clintock and the original Timekeepers locked them away,” said Ms. Dzielski. “We’d like to keep it that way.”

So much can happen in only a few days.

On Friday evening after the snowstorm, the Question Marks Mystery Club waited at Woodrow’s driveway for Bill to pick everyone up for the meeting at the college’s gatehouse. He’d have to switch cars with Mrs. Knox for the evening in order for all five of them to fit, but she didn’t have a problem with that.

In fact, when Bill had asked each of their parents if Woodrow, Sylvester, Viola, and Rosie could join the Timekeepers of Moon Hollow, he was met with mild disbelief. All were surprised to hear not only that the “secret society” still existed, but that Bill was a senior member. But once he explained what the group was all about, the parents allowed their children to decide.

Obviously, they’d already made their decision.

Most of the snow had melted, but Bill drove slowly up into the hills, watchful for black ice. He parked on Cherry Tree Lane, not far from the gatehouse. When everyone got out, they noticed a small group of people huddled across the street from the college entrance on the small patio
where one of Clintock’s clocks stood. The four recognized some faces from around town, including Principal Dzielski’s sister, Darlene, who eventually apologized to the Question Marks for her deception. Viola thought it was cool that this group had been able to keep themselves a secret for such a long time. What must they have thought when the Question Marks had uncovered the clues in the clock? For the first time since learning that the Timekeepers were still around, Viola felt embarrassed. She and her friends had caused such trouble for them!

Yesterday, the man who had called himself Phineas Galby was caught by police after trying to smash the clock face at the library. He insisted to them that there was a great treasure hidden inside. His argument didn’t help him, and he was currently being held in the Moon Hollow Police station. Luckily, the clock survived without a crack.

Tonight, a small ladder was propped up against the side of the Cherry Tree Lane clock. Ms. Dzielski stood nearby. The group of Timekeepers parted as they noticed Bill coming up the street with the Question Marks. “Everyone ready?” Bill asked.

The principal held up the key that Sylvester had found in the toolbox in the abandoned store on Maple Avenue. Then she knelt down at the base of the clock. She inserted the key into the
small hole there, and turned it to the right. A soft mechanical sound filled the icy night air. A motor whirred inside the bulbous clock head, then with an almost inaudible click, one of the faces unlocked, revealing a small dark gap. An older gentleman—Viola recognized him as Mr. Fredericks, owner of a local antiques shop — stepped up on the ladder and pulled the clock face the rest of the way open. Inside, gears and cogs glinted, reflecting ghostly light from nearby streetlamps. Mr. Fredericks reached inside, into a gap underneath the clockworks, and pulled out a large wooden box. He handed the box to someone else on the ground.

“One down,” said Ms. Dzielski. “Two to go.”

The Timekeepers traveled to the other clocks around town, using the key to remove the other parcels. After what Phineas Galby had done, everyone understood how vulnerable the “treasures” were. It was time to make a change. Mr. Clintock’s clues had certainly worked as a map. The Question Marks had tested it out. But in order to protect the time capsules now, they needed to be moved. Bill set up three large safety deposit boxes at One Cent Savings and Trust. That’s where the group would deliver the parcels at the end of the night, to be left unopened, as Mr. Clintock and the original members of the society had wished.

After the meeting was over and the deed was done, Bill switched cars at Woodrow’s house. The Question Marks all went inside to talk about what they’d just experienced.

Sitting in the Knoxes’ kitchen, eating popcorn, Woodrow asked, “Does anyone else wish we could have peeked inside the time capsules?”

“I’m totally curious,” said Viola. “But I understand why they had to remain sealed.”

“I don’t,” said Sylvester.

“Good things come to those who wait,” said Rosie. “And who knows, maybe we’ll be around someday when the Timekeepers decide it’s time to reveal the contents.”

Viola nodded. “You have to admit though, it was pretty cool to watch Ms. Dzielski open all the clocks tonight. To think that for all these years, no one knew there were secrets inside.”

“And now those secrets are safe again,” said Woodrow.

The Timekeepers weren’t the only ones who had new business with Bill’s bank that week. After nearly losing her savings, Sylvester’s grandmother finally decided to start a new account. Bill helped her set up some investments, and she was happy to have the help. Woodrow was beginning to change his mind about his mom’s relationship. He thought that maybe Bill was actually kind of cool, and it wasn’t just because Bill had invited Woodrow to be part of his secret
society. Woodrow had to admit that Bill was nice to his mom. He could be funny when he tried. And best of all, he treated Woodrow like a friend. Woodrow knew he’d been overly suspicious. He felt bad about it.

Woodrow now knew that there was only one way to win at the Strangers Game. Gather all the details you want, he thought; you still have to find out if your theories are right. To do that, despite what adults always say, you
do
have to talk to strangers. If you’re lucky, later, the stranger is no longer so strange.

“What do we do now?” Viola asked, leaning back in her chair, glancing at Woodrow, Sylvester, and Rosie.

“I have an idea,” said Woodrow. He leapt up from the table, then dashed out of the kitchen.

“Where’s he off to?” said Rosie.

“Should we follow him?” asked Sylvester.

But before any of them could stand, Woodrow appeared in the doorway holding a large cardboard box that he’d pulled out of the recycling bin. He plopped it down on the kitchen table. Then, grabbing a pen from a drawer next to the refrigerator, Woodrow proceeded to scribble something on the box. When he was done, he showed his friends what he’d written.

the question marks mystery capsule

“I thought that maybe we could make our own. We’ll each put in a few things that are important to us. Then we can seal it up and hide it away somewhere. And years from now, someone will find it and try to figure out who we were. I think it could be really cool.”

Everyone agreed.

Sylvester, Rosie, and Viola rushed off to their houses to search for items to put in the box, promising Woodrow they’d be back in only a few minutes. He continued to sit at the kitchen table. He clicked the pen he’d grabbed from the drawer. He looked at it more closely, reading the words printed along the side.
One Cent Savings and Trust.
After a moment, Woodrow clicked the pen one last time. Then, very carefully, he laid it inside the cardboard box and waited for his friends to return with their own secret treasures.

On Christmas morning, a frosty sun rose over Moon Hollow, trying desperately to break through a thin blanket of violet clouds. Snowy remnants of mid-December storms lay in drifts against the houses and storefronts. Patches of brown grass poked up through otherwise icy white lawns. In the air above the neighborhood, a singular clue revealed the warmth that existed inside the quiet buildings below: the hushed haze of chimney smoke. It wafted on a slight breeze, easing leisurely toward the frozen water of the Hudson River. Fires in fireplaces kept early-risers warm, as children opened presents and parents sipped coffee and cocoa from steaming mugs.

Little mysteries were being solved, detail by detail, with every passing minute. What was in this or that package? Would the holiday turkey be ready in time? How long would it be before
someone’s little brother or sister threw a temper tantrum?

Rosie, Sylvester, Woodrow, and Viola — the four members of the Question Marks Mystery Club — were used to paying attention to such details. But on this day, they imagined that the best gift would be a great big mystery to share with one another. That’s why, when Rosie invited the other three to her house for some afternoon pie, they all whooped for joy at having their wish granted.

They gathered in the Smithers’ living room, sitting amongst scattered pine needles in the ambient glow of the lighted Douglas fir. Mr. and Mrs. Smithers had gone on a walk. Rosie’s siblings — Greg, Stephen, Grace, and Keira — were all upstairs enjoying their gifts. Music blasted from one of their bedrooms, but the house was otherwise quiet. Rosie had brought plates and forks to share what was left of her mom’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Pie, which sat in the circle between them.

“Did you guys get anything good this morning?” Sylvester asked.

“Aren’t
all
presents good?” said Rosie.

“A present of
socks
is never good,” Sylvester answered. “I don’t care how you spin it.”

Rosie frowned. “I love the ones my grandmother gave me this year. I’m wearing them right now!” She wiggled her cushy pink toes.

“To each his own,” Sylvester said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be excited about the brand-new top hat my parents gave me for my magic routine.”

“You’re right,” said Rosie with a shrug. “I wouldn’t.”

“Well, I love the skateboard that Bill got me,” said Woodrow, “even though my mom wasn’t happy about it. She thinks I’m gonna break my arm. Still, I can’t wait until this snow goes away.”

“Me neither,” said Viola. “I want to try out the trick kite my uncle sent me. I didn’t really get any other presents today.” Her friends looked horrified. Viola chuckled. “Since we celebrate Hannukah
and
Christmas, my family spreads the gift-giving throughout the month.”

“My family has interesting traditions too,” said Rosie. “In fact, that’s why I invited you guys over. I wanted to tell you about what happened at my aunt and uncle’s Christmas Eve party last night.”

The four huddled closer together, and Rosie went on. “Aunt Theresa and Uncle George live in an enormous house a few miles up the river. They host our holiday event — since their home is the only one big enough to fit my entire extended family. And every year, as far back as I can remember, we’ve played a game after dinner. It’s called White Elephant.”

“I’ve heard of that,” said Viola. “Same thing as a Yankee Gift Swap, right?”

Rosie nodded.

Woodrow and Sylvester glanced at each other. “I’ve never heard of either of those things,” said Sylvester.

“A traditional White Elephant game,” said Viola, “also known as a Yankee Gift Swap, involves every guest bringing a single present to the party. The presents, which have already been wrapped, go into a big pile. Then the guests draw numbers out of a hat. Whoever picks number
one
gets to begin by unwrapping the first present. The next person is allowed to unwrap a different gift from the pile.
Or
she can choose to ‘steal’ another present that’s already been opened. Once that happens, the person whose gift was ‘stolen’ immediately gets to choose another present.”

Rosie nodded. “Our family plays a little differently. To keep everyone from arguing, we’ve eliminated the ‘swap.’ Whatever present you open is the one you keep. Since my extended family is so big, this is the cheapest way for us all to exchange gifts — everybody buys one gift, and everybody leaves with one gift.”

“Smart idea,” said Woodrow. “If I had as many cousins as you do, Rosie, I’d go broke trying to get them all something.”

“It’s just supposed to be fun,” said Rosie. “And it usually is…. Except, last night, something strange happened.”

“Strange how?” Viola asked.

“There was an argument,” said Rosie. “My aunt Theresa accused her cousin Martina of cheating.”

“Cheating?” said Woodrow.

“Theresa said that Martina always ends up with the best, most expensive present in the pile. Over the past few years, Martina’s taken home a silver pendant necklace, two tickets to the Nutcracker at Lincoln Indent in New York City, and a pair of mini-speakers for her stereo. Last night, Martina managed to unwrap a digital photo printer.”

“She sounds lucky,” said Sylvester.

“Theresa argued that luck had nothing to do with it,” said Rosie. “She said that Martina must buy a gift that she wants for
herself
each year. When it’s her turn to choose a present, she takes the one she came with.”

“Not technically against the rules,” said Viola. “But not exactly in keeping with the spirit of the season either.”

“And I knew that wasn’t what happened,” said Rosie. “At least, not this time. Martina might have been cheating, but not in the way that Theresa suggested.”

“But these were mystery gifts,” said Sylvester.
“How could you be so sure that Martina hadn’t brought the printer?”

“Easy,” said Rosie. “Because I knew who
did
bring the printer: my mom! I’d watched her wrap it earlier that day.”

“Ah,” said Sylvester.

“But Theresa still didn’t believe Martina was playing fair. Her next theory was that Martina must somehow learn ahead of time what exactly is in the gift pile. Then, she selects the gift she wants as soon as she can get it.”

“I don’t understand,” said Woodrow. “Does Martina go around asking the rest of your family what they brought to the party?” Rosie shook her head. “And she doesn’t have X-ray vision, right?” Rosie gave him a look. “Then how would your aunt know which gift to pick?”

“Theresa had an idea that she was quick to share,” said Rosie.
“If Martina didn’t ask anyone what they’d brought, how else could she learn which was the best present in the pile?”

“The only thing I can think of is good old-fashioned peeking,” said Viola. “Martina must carefully unwrap the presents ahead of the game, then wrap them up again using the same paper they’d come with.”

Rosie nodded. “Since the gift exchange happens after dinner, Theresa said that Martina had all afternoon to get ready for her deception. Between the time when the meal was first being cooked and when dessert was finally served, she must have slipped away to the sitting room where the gifts were kept, locked the door, and done the deed. With all the hustle and bustle, no one noticed she was gone. Martina vehemently denied it of course, but Theresa said she could prove that someone had unwrapped all the presents prior to the game.”

“I know how!” said Sylvester. “After dinner, Theresa noticed that all the wrapping paper was wrinkled or torn.”

“Good guess,” said Rosie. “But that wasn’t it. Martina had been careful not to ruin the paper. The evidence Theresa had was a little … stickier.
Does anyone know what it was?”

“Well,” said Woodrow, “if the evidence wasn’t the paper, the evidence must have been something else people use to wrap presents. Stickier?” He thought for a moment then cried out, “The tape!” Rosie smiled and nodded for him to go on. “I’m sure everyone at the party used different wrapping paper for their gift. But they may also have used different kinds of tape. Some tape is clear. Some tape is opaque. I’ve even seen some people use yellowish packing tape to wrap presents. If your aunt Theresa said she could prove that someone had unwrapped all the presents prior to the game, her proof could be that someone had
rewrapped
the presents using the
same
tape on all the gifts.”

“You’re right!” said Rosie. “Digging through the remaining gifts and the scraps of wrapping paper on the floor, we saw that all of the presents had been wrapped using the same tape — an odd kind of tape that had string inside of it to make it stronger. It definitely wasn’t the tape my parents and siblings and I had used.

“The rest of my family finally bought into Theresa’s suggestion, and they asked Cousin Martina to open her purse. Inside, they discovered a small roll of that strange tape. Martina had brought it from home! She had gotten used to taking the best present over the years, so she thought she’d found a way to make sure it kept happening.”

“I bet your family wasn’t happy with her,” said Viola. “What did they do?”

“No one really made a big deal about it,” said Rosie. “They all chuckled that a grown woman would do something so childish. And of course, Martina was completely embarrassed. She apologized and offered to give back the printer, but no one would accept it. Aunt Theresa said she felt bad for exposing Martina, but ever since they were little kids, Martina was always obsessed with getting presents. After getting caught, Martina said she realized how silly she had been and promised never to peek again. Everyone agreed to move on. After all, my grandparents started our White Elephant tradition with the understanding that these holidays aren’t about getting presents. They’re about being together and having fun.”

Viola pulled a small satchel out from behind the sofa, where she’d stashed it earlier. “Yeah, but sometimes, they’re also about presents,” she said, opening the bag. She removed three small rectangular packages — each of them wrapped with a sheet of paper from the
Moon Hollow Herald
— and handed them to her friends, all of whom wore looks of surprise. Viola couldn’t help but grin.

“Viola!” said Rosie. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I did,” said Viola. “Open them up. You’ll see.” Woodrow, Sylvester, and Rosie tore off the wrappings, revealing tidy cloth-bound journals underneath. “They’re for writing down questions and answers. Every good detective needs one.”

Her friends thanked her profusely. Then, they all reached for more pie.