The Puzzler's Mansion (10 page)

Chase reappeared in the doorway, looking unhappy. Zook stood behind him, a defiant expression on his long face.

Norma said, “Do you have it?”

Chase looked at his hands. “No, it wasn't there.”

“I didn't take it,” Zook said. “I saw it last night, but it wasn't there when I woke up this morning.”

Norma's eyes narrowed. “You saw it last night? But you said before you've never heard of Edward Elgar.”

“I didn't know what it
was,
” Zook said with annoyance. “I was looking around at things before I went to bed. I noticed it but didn't really look at it. When I woke up this morning, it wasn't there. It's this big case with a glass front, right? About this big?” He held up his hands to describe something about the size of a dictionary.

“Why didn't you say so before?” Norma asked.

“I didn't know what you were talking about,” Zook said. “And besides, everyone was so quick to
accuse
me . . .”

“It wasn't in his bag,” Chase said quickly. “And I don't know where else it could be. Zook says he didn't take it, and . . . I believe him.” Winston didn't think that was the most convincing declaration of trust ever. There was still plenty of doubt in Zook's father's eyes.

Larry spoke up. “Zook. You say it wasn't there when you woke up this morning?”

“That's right.”

“Did you leave the room and come back and
then
it was missing?”

Zook thought about it. “No. It was gone right when I woke up.”

Larry frowned and stroked his chin. His expression was serious, but his eyes gleamed happily. Winston remembered that Larry Rossdale, in addition to being a weatherman and busy spokesperson, had started writing mystery novels. “One more question,” Larry said to Zook. “Was your door locked last night?”

“Yeah,” answered Zook. “I locked it before I went to sleep.”

Norma made a sound of disgust. “Why these questions?” she said. “This is an unnecessary distraction. The boy took it himself.”

“I did not!” Zook said.

“That's enough,” said Richard. He said it in a pleasant voice, but everyone could tell he meant it. “I'm not going to have the weekend sullied by this little incident.” He stood up and looked around at his guests. “If you took the Elgar program, I'm going to ask that you return it. Just put it back on the shelf in the music room, and all will be forgiven.” He nodded. “That's the last I hope to hear of this. And now, if you'll excuse me, Norma and I need to set up for the next puzzle. I'm going to ask you to stay out of the library. The rest of the house is yours.” He stood up and left.

After a moment, Norma followed him, giving a final backward look at the assorted guests, a glare that said as clear as day,
I'm watching you people. Don't steal anything else.

SO
STILL
WINSTON
was unable to see Richard Overton's magnificent library. This was getting to be something of a joke. At least they would solve the next puzzle in there, so the waiting would soon be over. Unless somehow the next puzzle involved wearing blindfolds.

They sat around awhile, not sure what to do with themselves. At the now-cleared dining room table, Gerard Deburgh and his wife settled into a card game with Derek Bibb and Chase Worthington, while Kimberly Schmidt stood in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Even stranger than hanging around all these famous people was how quickly Winston had gotten used to it.

Neither of the other kids their age—Amanda or Zook—were anywhere to be seen.

“We haven't been upstairs yet,” said Winston.

“It's just bedrooms, I think,” said Mal. “Nice staircase, though. Makes me want to ride down the banister. Think anyone would mind?”

“I think Norma would tear you into tiny pieces,” Winston told him.

“Hey, we should go watch a movie,” Jake said. He was as taken with the movie theater as Winston was with the library.

That was a pretty good idea, so they went downstairs. The door was closed, and Mal opened it slowly, expecting to interrupt somebody. The lights were on, but the theater was empty. The boys stepped in, smiling again at the magic of it all. There was a small stage, and the silvery-white movie screen stretched from one end to the other. It wasn't as large as the screen in a real theater, but it was still pretty big, and it was bordered on either side by rich red curtains.

Jake made his way up a narrow stairway and opened the door into the projectionist's booth. “Whoa, look at all this stuff!” he said.

Mal and Winston followed. Jake stood there with his eyes shining, admiring a sweet variety of video equipment. Richard Overton had a DVD player, an old videocassette player, and another device that none of the boys could identify. All of these were connected via a tangled nest of wires to some sort of gadget that beamed the picture out to the movie screen. Then there were two old-fashioned movie projectors, and stacked between them were a number of film reels. The whole back wall was taken up with movies in various formats. Winston immediately began poring through these, and after a few minutes, he started pulling out certain titles.

“I don't think we're going to have time to watch all of those,” Mal said.

“That's not what I'm doing. Hang on . . .”

Winston's voice had that faraway sound that Mal and Jake both recognized. They glanced at each other and nodded. Winston had been taken captive by a puzzle idea.

“So how do we get this going?” Mal said, feeling around the various gadgets for some kind of switch.

“And what movie are we watching, anyway?” Winston asked.

“Nothing, if we can't get this stuff working,” said Jake. “Aha, I
think this is the light switch,” he said, and suddenly they were plunged into darkness. The house lights and the overhead bulbs in the projection booth all went out at the same time. For all Winston knew, Jake had blacked out the entire mansion.

“Yes,” came Mal's voice from the dark. “That was the light switch.”

“Ugh, hang on, I lost it,” Jake said. Winston heard him rustling around. Something metallic fell off a shelf and hit the floor.

“I got it!” Jake said. The lights came back on to reveal Amanda Deburgh standing in front of the movie screen. She was frozen in mid tiptoe—she'd been trying to get out the door without being seen. The boys stared at her. Where had she come from?

“What are you doing?” Mal called out. “Playing hide-and-seek?”

Amanda turned red. “No. Shut up. I was just looking around.”

The boys left the projection room and walked back down the stairs. Winston looked around the theater, trying to figure it out. “Where were you?” he asked. “Behind the curtains?”

“So what if I was?” she asked.

“Well, what were you doing back there?” Jake asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “None of your business!” She folded her arms as if daring them to question her further about this.

How weird was this girl? Weird enough not to bother with. Mal shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said.

Amanda looked confused that the boys had dropped the subject so suddenly, but she recovered and stormed to the door . . . which opened before she could touch it. Zook walked in and frowned when he saw everybody else in here. Winston once again said a silent word of thanks that Mal and Jake had come along this weekend. These other two were no fun at all.

“What are you doing?” Zook said. “I was going to watch a movie.”

“That's what we're going to do,” said Jake.

Zook sighed with annoyance. “Fine,” he said, and turned around to leave. He couldn't possibly watch a movie
with
them, it seemed.

Amanda called out, “Did you really steal that thing? What did you do with it?”

Zook turned back again, sullen and angry. “I didn't steal anything. Not that I expect anybody around here to believe me.”

Winston didn't believe him. Neither did Amanda, who said, “I won't tell anybody. I don't care.”

“Yeah,” said Zook. “It's only your prize that's missing.”

“Sure,” Jake said. “
Her
prize. The one she snatched away from Winston, you mean.”

Amanda glared at him. “It's not my fault he's never heard of Elgar. Anyway, if I had known what the prize was going to be, I wouldn't have said anything. What do I want with some old music program?” She looked at Zook with a little smirk of a smile. “I just want to know how you did it, that's all. Where did you hide it?”

Zook hesitated, and Winston knew why. Amanda was pretty, and she was looking at Zook with shining eyes and a rare smile. But he shook his head. “I didn't take it, I didn't hide it, and I don't know where it is. Stop asking. Go watch your movie.” He turned on his heel and left the theater.

Amanda was offended that she'd been lumped in with Winston and his friends. “I'm not watching a movie!” she shouted, and followed Zook out of the room, closing the door behind her.

There was a small silence as the boys recovered from all that. Jake laughed, and Mal said, “They're a fun couple. We should hang out with them more often.”

“I wonder what she was doing.” Winston hoisted himself up on the small stage, and peeked behind the red curtains. There was nothing to see but darkness and dust. He took a couple of steps
farther and felt the cool stone wall. “What a weird place to hide,” he said.

“Maybe she wasn't hiding,” Jake said. “Maybe she was looking for the thing Zook stole.”

“That makes sense,” Mal said. “Zook's room is right down the hall. He doesn't want to put the program in his bag, because what if someone looks in there? So he hides it somewhere else.” He looked around. “This is a pretty good place for that.”

“Except it's not here,” Jake said, looking behind the curtains as well.

“Sure,” said Mal. “But Amanda thought it was. That's why she was back there looking for it.”

It was as good an explanation as any. Winston hopped off the stage. “I don't get why Zook would steal an old music program in the first place.”

Jake said, “Did you see Amanda's father? He acted like Richard Overton wanted to give his daughter a million-dollar check. Maybe that thing is worth a lot of money.”

“I guess,” Winston said. “It just seems strange that Zook would know that.” From what he could see, Zook's taste in music ran more toward loud electric guitars. “Come on,” he said. “I want to see something.” He left the theater.

The door to the entertainment room was closed, and Winston opened it slowly, worried that Zook might be in there. He wasn't—but Larry Rossdale was. Larry whirled around, surprised, as if Winston had caught him at something. It was an odd moment, seeing the morning news weatherman standing in front of the television instead of inside it.

Larry recovered from his surprise and laughed his trademark
Happy Weatherman laugh. “Hi, boys!” Larry said. “Would you like to put on some music or watch TV? Go ahead, I was just leaving.”

All three boys sensed that Larry was up to something, but only Jake put his finger on what that was. “Are you looking for the thing Zook stole?” he asked.

Larry laughed again, and turned slightly pink. “Sort of, sort of,” he said. “I just wanted to look around a little. This has the makings of a wonderful mystery, don't you think?”

Mal said, “You don't think Zook took it?”

“Oh . . . well.” Larry looked around, leaned in, and said in a low voice, “He probably did.” He then regained his usual cheerful excitement. “But if you assume for a moment that he
didn't,
then what you've got is a lovely locked-room mystery.”

“A what?” Winston said.

“Think about it,” Larry said. “We have a room, right?” He swung his arm to demonstrate that they were, indeed, in a room. “The door is locked, and inside is a sleeping person.”

“Yeah . . .”

“A sleeping person in a locked room! So if Zook didn't take the program, the question is not only ‘whodunit' but also how could the thief steal the program at all? He had to get into a locked room without waking up the person inside, steal the thing, and get out again. A locked-room mystery!”