Floors #2: 3 Below (3 page)

“No one’s staying in the Flying Farm Room,” Remi whispered.

“And Captain Rickenbacker will totally let us play pinball,” Leo whispered back.

Blop kept on talking about the envelope, but there was a lot of commotion drowning him out. Besides, Leo and Remi were too busy thinking about all the fun they were going to have as soon as their parents left the country.

It took some convincing to get Pilar on board. She desperately wanted to go, but it was so extravagant, and she’d never left Remi alone for an entire week. But Remi insisted it was no big deal, he’d be fine, and the bridesmaids were practically bursting with excitement. Soon they were all hurrying down to the carriage for a closer look, leaving Remi and Leo to plot their plans in peace on the roof.

“Is there any chance either of you might listen to me, because if there’s not, I’d like to get back in Remi’s pocket and take a nap,” Blop complained.

“What’s that you say?” asked Leo, finally looking down at the chattering little robot.

“I said there’s a gift on this table that’s not for the bride or the groom. It’s for you and Remi.”

“Really?” Remi said, taking a keen interest. “Maybe it’s candy or comic books.”

Leo told Blop to lead the way, and the two boys followed until they came to the envelope.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Leo asked Remi.

“I sure am,” said Remi.

Leo picked up the envelope and gently broke the wax seal.

“Mr. Powell must have left it here,” said Remi. “He’s sneaky.”

Leo popped the wax seal off the envelope and pulled out two things. One was a letter, the other a key card.

“Whoa,” said Remi, taking the card and turning it in the soft light. “That’s the coolest hotel key card I’ve ever seen.”

And it was. The card was black, but then it wasn’t. As Remi turned it in the light, the color changed from deep green to burnt orange and everything in between. When he held the card still, it went black once more.

“Is there liquid inside that makes it do that?” Leo asked no one in particular.

“I’d have to take it apart and examine the insides to find out,” Blop said. “Let me have a closer look.”

But Remi knew better. If Blop got ahold of the key card, he’d waste no time trying to break it open and experiment with it. He had tiny arms and claws that were surprisingly good at destroying things.

“It’s from Merganzer,” said Leo, and his heart leapt. Maybe it wouldn’t be a quiet summer at the Whippet after all.

“Hang on! Don’t read a word without me,” Remi said, running to the six-tiered wedding cake and loading
up two glass plates. He returned and the boys sat on the grass.

“Okay, here goes,” Leo said, taking a big bite of cake and then talking with his mouth full. The penmanship was even worse than normal, and Leo guessed that it was written from the blimp as it flew through the night sky, bumping along on gusts of wind.

Dear Leo and Remi,

I have a slight problem that will require a small favor, and I know you two are perfect for the job. My apologies for needing to get rid of your parents for a while, but it simply had to be done. They would never have let you go because the slight problem and the small favor are terribly dangerous. Parents can be so very . . . safe. It will be much easier if they’re not around.

“This is starting to sound awesome.” Remi smiled and shoved a huge chunk of wedding cake into his mouth.

The slight problem is embarrassing. I neglected to mention the state property taxes for the hotel. (Ms. Sparks always took care of such things, and it
slipped my mind.) If memory serves, you owe about $700,000 for last year.

“Uh-oh,” said Leo. “This is starting to sound not so awesome.”

“Keep reading!” Remi begged.

“Okay, okay,” Leo said, and went on:

The key card will help you solve this little problem. And you’ll be able to do me that small favor. I need some things from the hotel subbasement. Important things. You’ll find them on the way, and some people, too. They will help you. I wish I could say more, but really, I shouldn’t. If you knew where this adventure was going, you wouldn’t do it. I’ve said too much!

“He has a weird way of asking for favors,” Remi commented.

And yet, it was somehow the perfect invitation. It would be dangerous, so much so that if they knew
how
dangerous they wouldn’t go at all.

It was exactly what Leo and Remi needed to hear.

“There’s a subbasement in the Whippet Hotel?” Leo couldn’t believe it was possible, an entire basement he knew nothing about.

There was one more part at the end of the letter:

Ask Betty, she’ll know what to do with the key card.

Off with you now! Time is of the essence!

Your friend,
Merganzer D. Whippet

It was bad enough they were expected to pay a year’s worth of back taxes Leo hadn’t planned for, but getting important information from a duck in order to use the key card? It was ridiculous.

“Where are we supposed to get seven hundred thousand dollars?” asked Remi. He pulled out his nearly flat wallet and counted out the crumpled bills. “I have four bucks.”

“I bet there’s plenty of money hidden in this place,” Leo said. “I just can’t believe there’s a basement we didn’t know about. I thought we knew this place inside and out.”

In truth, Leo and Remi were about to discover just how little they really knew.

M
r. Carp scratched his scruffy mustache nervously as he fidgeted in his chair. If Ms. Sparks had been able to grow a mustache, she would surely have grown it very long, with handlebars for twirling between her bony fingers. Sitting in her dank apartment across from a low-level, weasel-faced tax agent was making her day. Misery, it seemed, really did love company.

“I don’t know how you do it, Mr. Carp. It must be murder in that office, shuffling papers all day, and no air-conditioning. It’s deplorable.”

“They treat us like swine,” said Mr. Carp. He was glugging iced tea by the glass and eating the stale cookies Ms. Sparks had set on the table as if he hadn’t eaten
since breakfast the day before. Ms. Sparks took notice of the black grime under Mr. Carp’s fingernails and thought he must be a mechanic of some sort in his off time. And a bachelor for sure, without someone to tell him to wash his hands.

“So we have a deal, then, am I right?” asked Ms. Sparks. It was all she could do not to jump up and down with excitement, but she had to play it cool. She couldn’t scare him off.

“It’s very sensitive information, you understand,” he said. He’d already mentioned this fact eight or nine times, and it was starting to grate on Ms. Sparks’s nerves. Her fingernails tapped on the table but she kept her wits about her, the prize in sight.

“Of course it’s sensitive, I completely understand. But you do want to get out of that basement, don’t you, Mr. Carp? And I can make that happen. I know just the person we’ll bring this offer to. He’s perfect.”

“But are you sure you can trust him? I mean, it’s Merganz —”

“Don’t say that name!” Ms. Sparks boomed. She’d managed to lose her cool after all. “I can’t stand that pointy-nosed ingrate!”

Mr. Carp dropped the cookie he’d only just picked up.

“I’m only saying,” he said, reaching delicately for one more cookie. Ms. Sparks’s evil eye bore down on his hand, and he pulled it back. “Well, it’s just, he’s very popular in the governor’s office.”

“Of course he’s popular!” Ms. Sparks yelled. She could blow a person’s hair back with her voice. It was that big. But she calmed herself, brought her voice down, and continued. “Merganzer D. Whippet is lining the pockets of all those bureaucrats. He takes care of
them
. But what has Whippet ever done for
you
, besides leave you to rot in a basement? And
me
? HA! He never appreciated me, never gave me a dime I didn’t work double for. He’s worth billions! Trillions! Zillions! Don’t you want a piece of that, Mr. Carp? Don’t you
deserve
it?”

Mr. Carp wanted to point out that Ms. Sparks had used Merganzer’s name a couple of times and he hadn’t been allowed to, but her eyes were bulging out of their sockets far enough that he thought they might shoot right out of her head. He didn’t like being bossed around, never had. But at least this time it might get him somewhere.

He reached his hand out over the stale cookies and snatched up one more.

“We have a deal,” he said.

Ms. Sparks stared at Mr. Carp with a deep look of cold satisfaction. She would be the boss of this deal. He would do as she said. And if things worked out in the end, he’d get his reward.

“Time for me to make a call,” she said, picking up the thick manila envelope Mr. Carp had brought with him.

Mr. Carp glugged the last of his tea, snatched up two more cookies, and went for the door.

“Be ready to move,” Ms. Sparks demanded, leaning forward toward him as she stood holding the door. “This is going to happen fast.”

Mr. Carp nodded and moved out from under the shadow of the beehive hairdo. When he was on the other side of the door, he proceeded up the steps in the manner of a possum: low and nervous, like a truck might barrel through the alley at any moment and squash him flat.

Before Leo and Remi could escape into the labyrinth of hidden Whippet Hotel tunnels, Mr. Phipps returned to the roof and ushered them both downstairs so they could say good-bye to their parents. It was a celebration and all — the carriage and the laughing and the well-wishing — but it took longer than either boy was happy about. They endured a prolonged debate between Pilar and Clarence Fillmore over whether they should stay or
go. One minute they were in the carriage, the next they were mercilessly hugging the boys, overcome with guilt about leaving them behind. They were family now, and families stuck together.

It was nice to be fussed about, but really, all Leo and Remi wanted to do was get rid of their parents for a week so they could go exploring in the hotel. The hotel was in a lull, with hardly any guests at all, so they could run free if only their parents would get out of the way. As the clock struck ten, they knew the secrets of the strange key card would have to wait until morning. If there’s one thing Leo wouldn’t do at the Whippet, it was bother Betty after ten. She was always grouchy at that hour and preferred biting over helping.

Eventually the carriage pulled away with Pilar and Clarence Fillmore inside.

The hotel grew quiet and peaceful.

“This seems like a bad omen,” Remi said. Both boys had slept fitfully and woken early, leaving Blop to recharge for a few hours. Standing on the front steps of the hotel, eating leftover wedding cake and squinting into the morning sun, they watched as a black limousine rolled through the front gate.

“Are we expecting someone?” Leo wondered out loud. He’d looked at the guest book and seen that it
was, as was often the case, blank for the day. There were the long-stay tenants, but they knew how to navigate the weird world of the Whippet just like Leo and Remi did. And their checks never bounced, which was saying something, given the outrageous price of a stay at the hotel.