Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Soccer Scheme (3 page)

The Case of the Hole in the Book

Raindrops danced on the roof of the Brown Detective Agency.

“We may as well quit for the day,” Sally said. “Nobody will come in this weather.”

“How about going to the public library?” Encyclopedia suggested. “I can loan you a raincoat and hat.”

“Suits me,” Sally said.

The two detectives made it to the library somewhat drier than wetter.

Ms. Moore, the head librarian, came around her desk. “How nice to see you both,” she said.

“It's good to be here,” Encyclopedia said. “Have you any new books?”

“Not since you were here last,” replied Ms. Moore. “In fact, we have one less book. Harry Elton's novel
Fast Wheels
had a hole burned into the middle pages. It's ruined.”

“When was the hole discovered?” Encyclopedia asked.

“Three nights ago,” Ms. Moore said. “Ben Considine, who cleans after hours, found it in the restroom. The book was by the sink. He said the book smelled slightly of tobacco. When he opened it, he saw the hole.”

“Do you suspect Ben?” asked Sally.

Ms. Moore shook her head. “Ben has been with us for years. The hole was clearly made by a cigarette being snuffed out. Ben doesn't smoke.”

“Have you any idea who did it?” Encyclopedia inquired.

“I'd have to guess,” Ms. Moore answered. “It rained that day, worse than today. No one came into the library except four teenage boys. They use the library once in a while. They checked out books on racing cars and drivers. They stayed about thirty minutes. I think it was one of them.”

Ms. Moore showed the detectives the burned book. “What sort of person would do such a thing?” she said bitterly.

Encyclopedia examined the hole.

“Does it tell you anything?” Sally asked hopefully.

“Not so far,” the boy detective said. “Do you have the boys' names, Ms. Moore?”

“I can get their names off their library cards,” Ms. Moore said.

She used the computer and showed the printout to the detectives. On it were four names: Chris Wilder, Oscar Lane, Gary Silver, and Frank Cloud.

The detectives had seen them in town. They were not troublemakers.

“Did anything unusual happen in the library since the hole was made?” Encyclopedia asked.

“I can't say,” Ms. Moore replied. “While the boys were here, my two assistants, Ms. Catlin and Ms. Hawkins, were in the office. They were checking in books returned in the book drop. None of us watched the boys. Wait, there is something else.”

She drew a folded sheet of paper from her desk drawer. “I received this in the mail today.”

The top two lines on the sheet were:

He burned the hole in the book.

To find out who, have a look.

Written below in block letters were three words, PURPLE MONTH ORANGE.

“I can't see that the three words have anything to do with the burned hole. They don't make sense,” said Ms. Moore. “I think it's an attempt to throw us off the track.”

“Perhaps it's a code,” Sally said.

“Possibly,” Encyclopedia said.

“Month,” Ms. Moore mused. “Months have holidays. Is there a holiday with purple and orange colors? Then again, the code may have to do with food. Grape jelly is purple, and oranges are orange. The words may be about a holiday or food.”

“Are there any holidays about food, Encyclopedia?” Sally asked.

“I only know of two, Picnic Day in Australia and Peanut Sunday in Luxembourg,” Encyclopedia said.

“Australia? Luxembourg? Good grief, that's reaching a little too far, isn't it?” Ms. Moore objected politely. “The code may have to do with poetry some way or other. Rhyming book with look may be a clue.”

“I can't see that the three words have anything to do with the burned hole. They don't make sense,” said Ms. Moore.

“That's it!” Encyclopedia exclaimed. “The words purple, orange, and month don't tell us who wrote them. They tell us who burned the hole in the book.”

WHO BURNED THE HOLE?

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The Case of the April Fools' Plot

Every morning Chuck Tweedle delivered the
Idaville News
around the neighborhood on his bike. He slung the newspaper to the front doors with great skill.

In the week since April Fools', however, the newspaper landed several feet from the doors. One homeowner, Mr. Miller, complained the loudest, but only about the delivery on April Fools'.

Encyclopedia and Sally decided to learn more from Chuck himself. The detectives found him sitting on the front steps of his house huddled in gloom.

Sally laid her hand gently on his shoulder. “Gosh, Chuck, whatever is the matter?”

“I was fired,” Chuck said.

“What for?” Encyclopedia asked. “You deliver the newspaper on time, and your aim is perfect—right to the front door.”

“I never missed,” Chuck said. “How else can a half-pint like me make a name for himself?”

“You're already a name,” Sally said. “You became one last year when you were crowned the
Idaville News
delivery boy of the year.”

“That dumps me into a class with last year's news,” Chuck replied. “I didn't deserve to be fired. I didn't do what I'm supposed to have done.”

“Tell us,” Encyclopedia said.

“What have I got left to lose?” Chuck said halfheartedly.

“On April Fools',” he began, “I delivered the newspaper to the Millers' house by six thirty, as always. That afternoon Mr. Miller complained that I had rolled up the newspaper. When it was tight and hard, he said I shoved it though the handle of the front door, bolting the door shut.”

“Did you?” Encyclopedia asked.

“I didn't do any such thing,” Chuck said. “My boss said I couldn't work for the
Idaville News
after such a trick, April Fools' or not. He said to pick up my check and have a nice day.”

“Anyone could have bolted the door after you delivered the newspaper to the Millers,” Encyclopedia said.

“Did anyone see you deliver the newspaper to the Millers?” Sally asked.

“Mr. Miller's teenage daughter, Lily,” Chuck answered. “She's a singer and a cat lover. She has three white cats, beautiful but a mess. They leave hairs wherever they lie down. They sleep nights in the living room on the couch facing the picture window. When I tossed the paper at her door on April Fools', I saw the cats lying on the couch. Lily claims she saw me bolt the door. I didn't see her. She wasn't on the couch.”

“Why should she lie?” Sally said.

“To help her kid brother, Horace,” Chuck replied. “I beat him out for the newspaper delivery route. He wanted it. He's got it now.”

“Let's hear from Lily,” Encyclopedia said.

Lily wasn't pleased to see them. She took them into the living room. “Have a seat,” she said coldly.

On the way to a chair, Encyclopedia stopped behind the couch. It bore a mess of white cats' hair.

The living room was in the wing of the house. The picture window allowed him to see the front door. Cats' hair or no cats' hair, the couch was plainly the best place to see all of the door.

“What's on your mind, such as it is?” Lily inquired.

“You said you saw Chuck bolt your front door with a newspaper on April Fools',” Encyclopedia said. “Could you be mistaken?”

“Not on your life,” Lily hurled back. “It was Chuck.”

“Chuck said he delivered the newspaper at your house by six thirty. You had to be up early,” Sally declared.

“I never sleep well before I have to perform,” Lily said. “I had to perform at a charity breakfast at the Children's Hospital that morning. The breakfast included dancing to the music of the six-piece band, the Black Ties. I'm their singer.”

“Dancing at breakfast?” said Sally.

“It's never too early to dance,” Lily retorted. “The program started at nine o'clock. All of us, musicians, waiters, and cooks, had to report at eight to set things up. I got up a little after five.”

“What did you do with all that time to kill, from five to eight?” Sally puzzled.

“I decided to get ready and wait for the newspaper,” Lily said impatiently. “So I freshened up and put on the black linen dress I always wear when singing with the Black Ties. I thought I'd read the newspaper while I had breakfast.”

“Weren't you worried about soiling your dress at breakfast?” Sally asked. “If I had to perform, I wouldn't dress up until I'd eaten.”

“My black dress is always spotless. I take care of all my clothes,” Lily snapped. “I'm not ten years old.”

“Where were you when Chuck delivered the newspaper?” said Encyclopedia.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Where would I be able to see Chuck at the front door? I was sitting on the couch!”

Sally howled. “You sat on the cats?”

Lily laughed scornfully. “Don't be silly, you twit. I chased them off first.”

All at once she stopped laughing. Her face looked as if she'd been hit over the head with the floor.

Encyclopedia had told her how he knew she was not telling the truth.

HOW DID ENCYLOPEDIA KNOW?

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The Case of Wilford's Big Deal

Danny Proxmire, who was eight, laid twenty-five cents on the empty gas can by Encyclopedia. “I'm hiring you.”

“For what?” asked Encyclopedia.

“Wilford Wiggins called a secret meeting for little kids at five o'clock. He promised to make us rich beyond imagining,” Danny said.

“Wilford, oh that Wilford!” Sally groaned.
“Phew!”

Wilford Wiggins was a high-school dropout and as peppy as seaweed washed up on the beach. He swore he wasn't afraid of work. He had fought it for years.

“The only exercise he gets is yawning,” Sally said.

Wilford championed the grand old rule. Never stand if you can sit and never sit if you can lie down. While on his back he dreamed up new ways to cheat the little kids out of their piggy-bank savings.

Last month he was raising money to save the Pony Express. A week ago it was funds for an electric napkin. It lit up so you could see to wipe your mouth in the dark.

Wilford never got away with his phony get-rich deals, however. Encyclopedia was always there to stop him.

“You can't trust Wilford,” Sally advised Danny.

“That's why I'm here,” Danny said. “I need you to make sure he's on the up-and-up this time.”

“Wilford wouldn't be on the up-and-up in a ski lift,” Sally said.

“We'll take the case,” Encyclopedia said.

* * *

Wilford usually held his secret meetings in the city dump. This one was in the dance classroom of the Community Center.

“The dance class for today was called off,” Danny said to the detectives. “The teacher had to fly to Akron. Wilford gets to use the room because he claimed his talk is educational. It teaches little kids how to invest their money wisely. Lucky for us, this secret meeting isn't in the city dump again. We won't go home stinky.”

The dance classroom at the Community Center was overcrowded with little kids eager to hear Wilford on how to get rich quick.

Wilford was standing in front of the children, about to offer them his newest can't-lose moneymaking deal. Beside him stood a thin, pale-faced teenager holding a knapsack.

“Meet Bruno McCumber,” Wilford announced in the voice of a duke introducing the king of England.

Bruno bent in a modest bow. Encyclopedia remembered seeing him around town.

He was usually admiring himself in the nearest mirror.

“Bruno got home yesterday from the desert where he'd been for three months prospecting for gold,” Wilford said. “He barely had enough water to stay alive. It was hot and rainless. But Bruno, alone day and night, didn't give up. Thirsty and tired, he kept digging. Finally he struck pay dirt, and here it is. Show 'em, Bruno!”

Bruno carefully shook a few bright yellow pebbles from his knapsack. He held them for everyone to see.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” a boy cried. “Cut the lip drip and get to it.” Other children joined in, demanding Wilford get to his new moneymaking deal.

“Those are no ordinary pebbles you see,” Wilford sang. “That's gold! Bruno discovered the richest gold mine in the state.”

The children gasped.

“Men who dig for gold keep their finds a secret,” a boy challenged. “How come you're telling us?”

“Glad you asked, friend,” Wilford said. “You don't use a pick and shovel to mine gold today. Too slow. We must have modern machinery. I'll be honest with you. All our cash is tied up in African oil wells. So I thought of selling shares to my little pals in Idaville. Help us buy the machinery, and Bruno and I will make you rich beyond imagining.”

“Don't leak a word about the mine,” Bruno counseled. “If you do, the grown-ups will move in and grab it all. None of us will get a dime.”

“Those are no ordinary pebbles you see,” Wilford sang. “That's gold! Bruno discovered the richest gold mine in the state.”

“And your dreams won't come true,” Wilford added. “You won't be able to buy things for your mom and dad, like a new car or a washing machine.”

“How much is a share?” a girl hollered.

“The regular price is twenty dollars,” Wilford said. “For my little pals, I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll slash the price to two dollars a share. In three years a share will be worth a fortune! The more shares you buy, the sooner you can buy that car or washing machine for your mom and dad.”

The children chattered excitedly. How long would it take to afford a new car or a washing machine if they bought ten or twenty shares?

Wilford had them set up for his best line: “Don't blame me that you're poor. Blame me for making you rich.”

That did it. The children lined up to buy shares.

“Stop them, Encyclopedia,” Sally pleaded. “Don't let Wilford walk off with their savings.”

“I won't,” Encyclopedia assured her. “There is no gold mine.”

WHY DID ENCYCLOPEDIA SAY THAT?

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