The Monkey Howled at Midnight (12 page)
A
heavy silence hung over the group. Cody looked thoughtful.
“Mr. Estevez, did you get your latest bank statement yet with the recent checks that have been cashed?”
“Why yes, it's in my desk,” he said, looking surprised.
“Could I see one of those canceled checks, please? The one made out to Aldo for his work in the garden?”
Mr. Estevez hesitated. “You want to see my bank statement?
And
a canceled check to Aldo?”
“Cody, that is personal business,” Mr. Carson said in a reproving tone.
“I have a good reason, Dad,” said Cody. “Believe me, I'm not nosing into Mr. Estevez's finances.”
“Oh, I suppose it's all right,” Mr. Estevez said.
“I'll get it,” Carlos volunteered.
“No, no, that's all right, Carlos. Please bring us some pastry. I'll get the statement.” Mr. Estevez went to his study and returned with an envelope.
Cody fumbled through it and pulled out a check. He laid it flat on the table. Then he placed the bill of sale on top. Everyone gathered around to watch what he was doing. The signatures matched up perfectly.
Otis understood right away. He slapped his brother on the back. “Way to go, Cody! You figured it out!”
“
I did, did I?
” Cody grinned at Otis, knowing his brother would catch the palindrome.
The others waited for Cody's explanation.
“A signature is never exactly the same from one time to the next. Mr. Estevez didn't sign this bill of sale because Aldo forged it, using the check from Mr. Estevez.”
Carlos brought in a tray of pastries and set them on the table. He looked at Mr. Estevez's face and his eyes clouded with concern.
Mr. Estevez looked pinched and worn. “How is this possible? I am surrounded by crooks.” He put a hand to the side of his face and looked at Cody.
“Forging my signatureâI could have been in terrible trouble. What if no one had thought about the check given to Aldo? Unless he confessed, the authorities might not have discovered the forgery. I could have been proved an accomplice and sent to jail. Not to mention the loss of my land. Thank you, Cody, very much.”
“I couldn't have done it without Otis and Rae. We all suspected there was something going on almost from the moment we got here. The three of us have been piecing clues together all along the way.”
Mr. Carson stroked his chin as he looked at Mr. Estevez. “I think we'd better take these items to the police,” he said, picking up the check and the bill of sale. “After that, maybe you and I should have a talk about Pino's future.”
“Oh, I think he's right,” said Maxim, following them through the doors to the dining room. “Pino is very talented.”
“At last, some good news,” murmured Luis, heading out after them.
When the others had gone, Cody, Otis, and Rae helped themselves to pastries. “The portrait is finished, and our holiday is almost over,” said Rae, biting into a fruit tart.
“It wasn't exactly a holiday, if you ask me,” said Cody.
“Not entirely.”
Carlos puttered around, gathering up plates and cups and glasses. “Poor Mr. Estevez,” he said. “Having a son mixed up in animal trafficking. Imagine, they're even engineering new species out in that warehouse. Designer snakes, indeed. Whoever buys these animals is sick, that's all I have to say.”
Carlos's little marmoset ran along the garden wall and jumped onto his shoulder. “Hello,
bebezinha
,” the butler cooed. “That means
little baby
,” he said. Then he fed the monkey a piece of pastry.
Cody stared at the butler and his pet. Something was definitely bothering him, but he couldn't figure out what it was.
A
fter breakfast, Cody and the others went upstairs to their rooms. Even though they were visiting and there were plenty of servants, Mr. Carson and Maxim insisted that they should neaten their rooms and make their own beds.
Cody picked up the pair of dirty pants that had held the bill of sale and started to throw them in the laundry hamper. A yellow scrap of paper fell out. He picked it up and examined it.
There was a word scribbled on itâ
macquinho
. It reminded him of something. He figured that the yellow note must have been stuck to the bill of sale.
His brain began to hum. What did it want him to know?
Cody glanced outside and saw Carlos riding his bike up the walkway toward the street. The little monkey clung to his back.
Cody turned away from the window. “
Was it a rat I saw?
” he muttered, using a classic palindrome.
“Huh?” asked Otis.
The humming in Cody's brain grew louder. He turned to Otis and held out the yellow note. “I found this in the office at the warehouse,” he said. “It was in the drawer under the computer, along with the forged bill of sale. What do you make of it?”
Otis took the yellow note and stared at the word. “Sometimes people keep passwords on scraps of paper under desk blottersâor in desk drawers,” he said. “
Macquinho
means
little monkey
in Portuguese. Pino told me one day when Carlos was talking baby-talk to his little marmoset.”
Cody and Otis exchanged knowing glances.
“Where is Carlos's room?” Otis whispered.
“It must be upstairs with the other servants' rooms,” Cody replied. “Let's go.”
They hurried upstairs and located Carlos's room. They found a bill addressed to him on his desk alongside his computer. Cody sat down and booted up.
The user name C. Santos appeared on the screen. Underneath was a prompt asking for the password. Cody's fingers shook as he typed in
macquinho
. He held his breath.
A magenta home page with a diamond-patterned background appeared. Rows of icons filled the right side of the screen. “This looks just like the home page I saw on the computer screen in the office at the warehouse,” Cody said with excitement.
“I'll bet this is a virtual private network and Carlos is a registered user. The computer at the warehouse was smashed, but we can access the records on the network from this one.” He clicked on documents and began perusing folders.
“Look at this, Otis! There are lists of customers, distribution locations, personnel. This is a gold mine.”
“I'll say,” Otis agreed. “Take a look at his e-mail.”
Cody accessed Carlos's e-mail program and found loads of incriminating correspondence. There were e-mails between him and Aldo about animal smuggling, and other e-mails to various parts of the world. Many of them were sent to someone in Indonesiaâsomeone Carlos referred to as “The Chameleon.”
On Carlos's hard drive, Cody found photos of Pino at the warehouse. It seemed that Aldo and the airstrip guard were not the only ones with blackmail on their minds.
“We've got to call Captain Montez right away,” said Otis. “Grab that laptop.”
Carlos walked into the great entrance hall and closed the door quietly. “I've enjoyed living in this house,” he murmured under his breath.
Cody stepped out from the study doorway. “Why would you leave, then? Is it something to do with someone called The Chameleon?”
Carlos's mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?” he snapped.
“Just something we found on your computer.” Otis appeared behind Cody. “Or rather, a lot of things we found on your computer. You're really involved in this Chameleon guy's business. Why don't you tell us about it?”
Carlos glanced over his shoulder. The little monkey leaped onto the dining room table, grabbed a piece of fruit, and began eating it as she stared at them all.
A sneer formed on Carlos's face. “Nosy boys playing detective. You have no idea what you've gotten tangled up in. I scouted out Mr. Estevez's land in the rain forest as the perfect place for The Chameleon to build his animal warehouse. Now I only had to find a way to make him sell the land.” His smile was anything but friendly.
“When I found out that his son wanted to go to art school and that his father had a problem with it, I began to form a plan. It should have been perfect.” He scowled.
“First, I made sure that Aldo and Pino met and became friends. Aldo suggested that Pino help with transporting some animals for money. He told Pino he could save enough to go to school and he wouldn't have to depend on his father.”
“Go on, there's more,” said Otis.
“You're right, my young sleuth.” Carlos nodded. “We offered Pino more money if he could convince his dad to sell to our cattle farmer. Of course, there was no farmer. It was Aldo who called Mr. Estevez and tried to pressure him into making a sale.”
“Mr. Estevez was more stubborn than you thought he would be, wasn't he?” Cody said. “That's when he began having trouble with speeding cars.”
“You boys are smarter than I gave you credit for,” Carlos remarked. “Yes, with Mr. Estevez's signature on the bill of sale, we didn't need to negotiate anymore. We just needed him out of the way.”
Carlos brushed a piece of lint off his shirt. “Pino never knew what he was getting into. We even planned to get a little more money by forcing him to buy our silence. It was Aldo's idea to threaten to tell his father about his involvement in animal trafficking. Pino never would have wanted him to know.”
“But an airstrip patrol came up with the same idea,” Otis said. “Only he thought Luis was Pino.”
“Yes, he made a big mistake.” Carlos crossed his arms. “He's very sorry now, I can assure you. And now, my young detectives, we have talked enough. Before you have a chance to tell anyone about this, I'll be halfway around the world with a brand-new identity.”
Carlos swept past Cody and Otis and entered the study. He walked toward the desk where his computer lay but stopped short. He found himself surrounded by Captain Montez and several of his officers, along with Mr. Estevez.
“Sorry, Carlos,” said Captain Montez. “What I've heard is very interesting. Besides, after Cody called, I had you followed. It seems that you went to the bank and withdrew a great deal of money from Mr. Estevez's account ⦠by forging his signature on a check.”
“Why did you do this?” asked Mr. Estevez.
“Money,” Carlos said, his voice full of contempt. “But that isn't all. I hated your arrogance. I've seen people like you all my life. You push other people around. Look at all of the work I did for youâand yet you never wanted to give me a raise. Then the man known as The Chameleon approached me. He was interested in your land. I could get money and get back at you at the same time.”
“Your reasoning is twisted, Carlos,” said Captain Montez. “You're under arrest,” he pronounced, as he snapped handcuffs on Carlos. As the police led Carlos out of the house, he glanced at the monkey that was still munching on fruit. “Good-bye,
macquinho
,” he whispered.
When he reached the door, Carlos jerked to a halt. “How did you figure it all out, Cody?” Carlos asked, without turning around.
“Oh ⦠I didn't right away. But you mentioned engineering new species at the warehouse. I never said anything about that. The only way you could have known is if you were involved in the business. Then there was the word
macquinho.
You were always calling your monkey little pet names, including the one that Aldo used as his computer password. Plus, you were the one who gave Aldo the check he used in the forgery. I just put it all together.”
