The Impossible Clue (8 page)

D
ad had five hours before his story was due. And I had four before Della needed me to make dinner. There was no time to waste. I took the stairs up to my bedroom two at a time.

‘Della, I'm going out. I'll be back in time to make dinner.' That's what I was
going
to say, anyway. But I didn't get the chance.

When I opened the door Della had her back to me, but I could tell from the hunch of her shoulders that she was upset.

‘I know, Mom,' she said. ‘But it's really hard. Dad and Alice don't understand. And Dad's working on a story . . . '

I took a step back and shut the door as quietly as I could. The floorboard under my left foot creaked. I froze, but Della didn't seem to notice.

‘I'm fine,' she said ‘Alice is cooking dinner tonight. Yes, I told her, carbs.'

It made me roll my eyes and smile at the same time. Even when she was upset, my sister was serious about being an actress.

‘I don't know. I don't think she minds. But it's weird. He's supposed to be the one taking care of us, not the other way around.'

It felt like I'd been kicked. Della went quiet. I could imagine Mom on the other end of the line, somewhere in a fancy hotel in Italy saying comforting things. They must have worked. Della gave a kind of
let's put all of this behind us
sigh.

‘You're right, I should just focus on the callback. Will you listen to my routine again?'

I used the cover of Della's time-step to sneak down the stairs. I scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen counter before grabbing my bike and heading out of the door.

It was just after quarter past one and the bright, sharp heat of mid-afternoon was fading into a thick mugginess that radiated off the sides of buildings and sun-baked streets and would last long after nightfall. I rode on the pavement even though you aren't supposed to. There weren't many people around, and it seemed a lot safer than being on the street.

I couldn't believe Della was being such a drama queen. Then again, it was Della. Drama was what she did best. I
pedalled hard and wished I hadn't gone upstairs in the first place, then I wouldn't be back stuck in the middle of Mom and Dad, the absolute worst place in the world. It was like I was eight all over again, telling Mom I wanted to go back to Philly to live with Dad. My palms were sweating just remembering it.

I took a breath and tried to pretend the whole thing away. Della didn't know I'd heard her, so as far as I was concerned, it never happened. I was never choosing sides again.

‘Numbers! Hey, what's up?'

Kevin Jordan came flying out of an alley on the other side of the street. I slammed hard on the brakes. My stomach flipped so impressively it could have run away to join the circus.

‘What do you want?' I asked.

‘What? Nothing.' He checked the road quickly and cycled across traffic when it was clear. ‘Your dad just called me. He said you were going to some guy's apartment and he couldn't go with you so he asked me.'

My father. The Hero. I planned to kill him when I got home.

I stood still, one foot on the ground, the other perched on the pedal. The boy was like a bad penny. Kevin circled his bike around me.

‘What exactly do you think you're doing?' I asked.

‘I just said, your dad asked me—'

‘Yes,' I cut him off, ‘ but what do
you
think
you're
doing?
We aren't exactly friends. Don't you have something better to do with your summer than hassle me?'

‘Hey, I'm here to help. No need to get so hostile. Besides, you owe me. You know I was on my third strike at school. I got summer detention because I tried to save you from those guys yesterday. I'm your hero.'

Kevin screwed up his angel face and stared at his shoes. It looked like I was bullying a choirboy. An old lady walking her Maltese gave me a look so dirty you'd think I just crawled out of a sewer grate. A nicer person might have felt bad about that. Not me.

‘No need to be hostile? Look Kevin, I don't like you. And you don't like me, so why . . .' I trailed off. ‘My dad said he'd pay you, didn't he?'

‘Twenty bucks.' Kevin grinned so wide I could see he'd forgotten to brush his teeth that morning.

‘Do what you like,' I said.

Dr Learner lived in the Drake Towers, a small apartment complex next to the Delaware River. We pulled into the car park at the front and locked our bikes to the chain-link fence. The building was made out of concrete, three storeys of pale grey that cut into the skyline like a chisel. An open walkway ran along the second and third floors, so all of the apartments had their own outside door. It looked more like a motel than a place someone would live full-time. It seemed odd that Mr Delgado lived in a
mansion while his close friend lived in a place like this, but I guess that's the difference between owning a business and working for one.

Dr Learner lived in apartment 203, so I skipped the doors on the ground floor and headed straight for the steps. Kevin jogged behind me.

‘So are we just going to knock on the doors and ask people questions?'

‘Pretty much.'

I stopped in front of the first door and raised my hand to knock. Then I stopped and turned to face Kevin. He was grinning like an idiot and making me more than a little nervous.

‘Look,' I said. ‘This is for my dad's work. So try to act normal, OK?'

Kevin crossed his heart and hoped to die. The grin didn't go away. I shook my head. I bet Dad had made this sound really exciting over the phone.

‘And let me do the talking,' I said.

No one was home at 200. Or at 201. Or, if they were home, they were ignoring me.

I was just starting to think I might get lucky and not have to talk to anyone when I knocked on the door of 202. Whoever lived there must have heard me knocking on the other doors, because they were ready for me.

As soon as my knuckles brushed the wood, the door jerked open so hard it rattled the security chain.

‘What do you want?'

The woman on the other side of the door eyed us like we might be wanted criminals. She was wearing a powder-blue sweatsuit and her hair was dyed the colour of a dull penny. She was due for a touch-up. I could see a line of grey at her roots. I made a mental note to tell Della she should definitely stay blonde.

‘Uh, hi,' I said. ‘My name is Alice and this is Kevin. We just wanted to ask some questions about Dr Learner. He lives in apartment 203.'

The woman narrowed her eyes.

‘He's my uncle. He's gone missing and we're looking for him,' Kevin said, polishing up his halo.

I elbowed Kevin hard. What part of ‘let me do the talking' didn't he understand?

‘I don't know what your game is, little missy, but I ain't playing. And you,' she sniffed at Kevin, ‘that pretty face doesn't fool me for one second. If you think you're gonna smile my door open and steal my jewellery, you picked the wrong old lady to mess with.'

‘Honestly,' I said. ‘We just want to talk.'

She snorted. ‘If you want someone to talk, try ol' jabber-jaws in 206. That woman could talk the hind legs off a donkey. Now back up and back off!' And with that, she slammed the door.

I should have asked for more than just the sudoku puzzle and the cryptic quip.

‘Wow,' Kevin said.

‘Come on, let's try the rest of them.' I walked past Dr Learner's apartment and knocked on the door to 204. No answer.

‘She was crazy.' Kevin followed me down the walkway to 205. He might have had a point, but I wasn't about to admit it.

‘Why? Because she didn't buy your angel face?'

‘No. Because she was crazy.' Kevin crossed his arms and leant against the concrete wall while we waited to see if anyone would answer. ‘What are you trying to find out anyway? Do you think one of these people will know where he is?'

‘Not really,' I said. We walked down to the next door. ‘I'm just doing my dad a favour.' I knocked on 206. The sooner I could find some background information and get out of there the better.

This time the door opened.

An elderly woman in a flowery tropical dress smiled out at us. She was almost my height, with dark skin that wrinkled happily around her eyes and short, curly grey hair.

‘Hello there. Can I help you?' A small Pomeranian yipped at us from behind her legs. ‘Quiet, Betsy!'

‘My name is Alice and this is Kevin. We wanted to ask you some questions about Dr Learner from 203.'

‘Come in, come in,' she said, and shooed us into the
living room. Betsy ran circles around her legs. The furniture was as floral as her dress. Small porcelain figures of dogs dressed up as flowers filled the shelves.

‘Please, sit down. It's so nice to have company. I just baked some cookies. My grandson loves these, but I can always bake some more for when he comes over later.' She put a plate full of chocolate-chip cookies on the coffee table in front of us, then settled herself down. ‘Now, what did you two dears want to talk about?'

‘Well, Mrs, um?' I started, picking up a cookie from the plate to be polite.

‘Call me Dot, dear. Everyone calls me Dot.'

‘OK, Dot. We wanted to ask you about Dr Learner. Your neighbour in 203.'

‘Oh, Adrian, such a charming man. He always used to bring me my post. So helpful, although, well, it hardly matters I suppose . . .'

‘What is it?'

‘Well, one doesn't like to speak ill of the dead . . .'

‘He isn't dead,' I said quickly. ‘He's just missing.'

‘Oh, well, that's good, then. Would you like another cookie?' I hadn't finished the one in my hand, but Kevin had already had three and reached out for another.

‘No, thank you.' I shot Kevin a disapproving look, which he expertly ignored. ‘What were you going to say about Dr Learner?'

‘Hmm?'

It was like watching treacle roll uphill.

‘Dr Learner. Something was different? You noticed something?'

‘Oh, that. Well, I'm not one to tell tales. And I do think he must have been very busy, so I'm sure it isn't all his fault. But, well, busy or not you do need to have some consideration for your neighbours.' She paused. ‘You see, there's been a sort of smell coming from his apartment. I wouldn't say anything normally, but poor Betsy makes such a fuss every time we pass the door. Her nose is so sensitive. Isn't it, Betsy darling?'

My heart sank. It wasn't exactly the personal angle my father was looking for. I asked a few more questions, but it was pretty clear Dot didn't know Dr Learner more than to say hello in the morning.

We had to listen to Dot talk about poor Betsy and her sensitive nose for another ten minutes before I managed to talk us out of there. Kevin was no help. He was enjoying his cookies too much.

‘Well, that was a waste of time,' I said after Dot shut the door. There were four more doors to go. I was starting to get a headache. ‘Come on,' I said ‘Let's see who's behind door number 207.'

I raised my hand but didn't get the chance to knock.

‘Not another step!' It might have been the gruff voice, or it might have been the very large hand on my shoulder, but I listened. I didn't move an inch.

A
fter a second that felt like a year, the hand let go of my shoulder. I saw Kevin breathe again, and I turned around and found myself face to face with the stomach of a very large man. I had to crane my neck to see his face. And even then, all I could see was the underside of his chin. He'd missed a spot shaving that morning.

‘Are you the kids related to Dr Learner?'

‘Who are you?' I took a step back and got a better look at him. He was wearing a denim jumpsuit decorated with grease stains. It looked like he was the Drake Towers handyman. He had a large toolbox in his left hand and a roll of black plastic bin bags under his arm.

‘I'm Mr Ryder. I'm the apartment manager. Eunice called to tell me you two were poking around up here.'

Eunice must have been the sparkling personality in 202.

Kevin got in front of me and gave Mr Ryder a smile that could have made rocks melt. ‘We just want to find out where he's gone.'

‘You and me both.' The man grunted. ‘The rent's due next week. But that isn't the problem.'

‘It isn't?' I asked.

‘Well, not yet anyway. The real problem is the smell. The neighbours are starting to complain, and lord knows Eunice complains enough as it is already. But now that you two are here, I don't need to worry.'

I had a feeling I knew where this was going, and I couldn't believe my luck.

Mr Ryder got out his bunch of keys and started flicking through the keys until he found the one he wanted. He worked it off the ring and handed it to Kevin. He handed me the roll of bin bags.

‘You're his relatives. You're responsible. Go clean it out.'

‘But we're kids,' Kevin said before I could shut him up. This was a golden opportunity to search Dr Learner's apartment and he was about to blow it.

‘Then call your parents and get them to come clean up this mess. I don't care. I want it gone.'

‘But—' Kevin started to say. I stomped on his foot, hard.

‘We'll do our best,' I said. ‘Are you coming with us?'

‘Not a chance.' Mr Ryder grinned, and then he whistled his way back down the walkway and up the steps to the second floor.

‘Why did you tell him we'd clean the place?' Kevin looked at me like I was crazy.

‘He gave us the key! We can search for clues.'

‘So we're not cleaning?'

‘Of course not.' I grabbed the key out of Kevin's hand and walked quickly down the walkway to 203.

Dot and Mr Ryder were right. There was a bit of a smell sneaking out from around the edges of the door.

I put the key into the lock.

‘Wait.' Kevin stopped me. ‘You don't think
he's
in there, do you? You know, the smell?'

I paused and sniffed the air. ‘It smells like rotten food, not decomposition,' I said. ‘Besides, I'm pretty sure Mr Delgado said that they checked Dr Learner's apartment. They wouldn't still be looking for him if he was in there.'

‘If you say so,' said Kevin. His face was pale and slightly grey, like the underbelly of a fish.

‘I do.' I turned the key and opened the door.

The smell hit us like a fist. It was awful, a mix of musk and rot, old cheese and unwashed socks and a million other things too disgusting to think about. Dr Learner may have only been missing for two days, but whoever cleaned his apartment had been missing a lot longer.

‘Get a window open,' I said. My eyes watered with the smell of it all.

Kevin covered his nose and mouth with one hand and made his way across the room, struggling to unlock the
catch on the window behind the couch. ‘This is so not worth twenty bucks,' he said.

I pulled the neck of my T-shirt up over my nose and stepped inside. The apartment consisted of four rooms. The front door opened on to the living room. To the right was the kitchen and to the left the bedroom and bathroom. I stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind me.

‘What are you doing? Keep it open. Let the smell out,' Kevin said uncovering his mouth, and then immediately covering it again.

‘Don't worry, we won't stay too long. I just want to have a quick look around.' I wanted to see if that top secret briefcase was there. It was a small chance, but possible. The mess in this place was a security system in itself.

Dr Learner's apartment hadn't seen the business end of a mop in months. The living room was full of bookshelves, but they were empty, their contents pulled out and piled on the floor. Towers of books and binders, folders and files grew out of the ground like a miniature city. I felt like Godzilla as I moved through the room. I snapped a few pictures with my phone, but I didn't think they were what Dad was after, at least not for the puff piece.

I checked the kitchen first, taking pictures as I went. Counters lined two walls and a small two-person table took up the third. At least, I guessed it was a table. I couldn't see the top of it.

There was a worrying crunch when I stepped on to the linoleum, like someone had spilt a box of cereal on the floor. I hoped it was cereal. I hoped harder than I'd ever hoped before, but the sound of buzzing and the swarm of flies around the sink were all clues I shouldn't look down. I swallowed hard and told the pretzel I'd eaten earlier to stay in my stomach where it belonged.

I rooted through the cabinets quickly, touching as little as possible. No briefcase. The freezer was empty except for a half-full tin of coffee beans and an empty ice tray. The refrigerator was covered with magnets and reminder notes. Some of them were normal, like a list for bread, cheese and milk. But there were also notes filled with complex equations and formulas. I saw a few that I recognized, but most of them were too advanced. I took a few more pictures, just in case Dr Learner had posted the formula for invisibility on his refrigerator before he left town.

Underneath the top layer of notes, I found a child's drawing, the edges of the paper slightly brittle with age. It was a portrait of Dr Learner, with a giant head and tiny legs and a smile that was bigger than his face. He was wearing a wizard hat and holding a wand. I wondered who drew it. Dr Learner didn't have any kids, or nieces and nephews. At least that's what it said in the Delgado file. Whoever drew it thought Dr Learner was a pretty great guy. I opened the refrigerator and shut it again. Fast. You
could tell me there was a diamond the size of a tennis ball in there and I still wouldn't open it again.

Gagging, I stumbled back into the living room. Kevin had his head out of the window. Some help he was.

Most of the clutter was in the middle of the living room, radiating out from the couch. So I moved along the edges, making my way to the bedroom. A large oil painting of a peaceful mountain scene hung in the middle of the wall surrounded by pictures of family and friends. One photo in particular caught my eye. Dr Learner stood with one arm around Sammy's shoulder, the two of them smiling like idiots and holding up a small silver trophy. Squinting, I could just make out the words
Second Place
and
Science Fair
. I suddenly had a pretty good idea who was the artist of that picture in the kitchen. I also knew why Sammy was so insistent on helping me solve this case. He wanted his hero back.

My stomach turned in a way that had nothing to do with the smell. I wondered what I'd say to Sammy if I couldn't find Dr Learner. I pushed the thought away quickly. There was no point in worrying about that now. If I wanted to find Dr Learner, all I could do was keep looking.

The bedroom was a bit better than the rest of the apartment. The wardrobe doors stood open, its contents, hangers and all, heaped across the bed. By the looks of things, Dr Learner hadn't eaten any food in here, just drunk cups and cups and cups of coffee. Every surface that
wasn't covered with books or clothes had a paper coffee cup on it. Not all of them were empty.

As I looked around, I couldn't shake the feeling that Kevin and I weren't the first ones to search the place. Besides the mess, things were just slightly askew as if they'd been moved and put back, but not in quite the right place. I didn't see a briefcase anywhere. Even when I gathered the courage to look under the bed.

I stuck my head in the bathroom. It was surprisingly clean. Actually, it was so clean I wondered if it was ever used. I opened the cabinet. The top shelf had a toothbrush and toothpaste and five boxes of dental floss. The middle shelf was for all the soaps and shaving things. But the bottom shelf was empty. I looked closer. There were several water stains, small circular ones. The size of a prescription medicine bottle.

‘It looks like someone came and got his medicine,' I said as I stepped back into the bedroom. That meant either Dr Learner had been planning to escape, or whoever took him had come back to get the bottles.

I stopped. There was an odd rectangle of clean space between the bed and the wall. It was partially hidden behind a large tower of textbooks, so I hadn't seen it from the other side of the room. No coffee cups, no books, no dust even. Something used to sit there, and it had been moved. Something the size and shape of a briefcase.

‘Numbers, hey.' Kevin hurried into the bedroom, his
voice croaky.

‘Yes, yes, we can go in a minute.' I took a picture of the empty space.

‘No, that's not it. Someone's coming.'

‘What?' I asked.

‘I saw some guy out of the window.'

I didn't understand why Kevin sounded so frantic.

‘So?' I said. ‘It's not like we're not supposed to be here. We've got permission.'

‘Yeah, but I don't think he does,' Kevin said.

The sound of breaking glass cleared up any other questions I might have had.

Someone was breaking in.