Mary Anne and the Library Mystery

by Ann M. Martin

  “Go ahead and pass them around, Claud,” said Kristy. “We need to keep our energy up, right?” She grinned at Claudia, and helped herself to a chocolate-covered pretzel. “These look great,” she said. “Anyway,” she went on, sitting up straight again, “as I said, it’s time to crack down on this mystery. The library could burn down any day, fires are starting in other places, too, and — well, I hate to say this, but Mary Anne is losing it.”

  I ducked my head and blushed. Kristy and I had had a long talk on the phone the night before, and I had told her about my bad dreams. I cried a little during the conversation, too. I knew she was worried about me, and that was nice. But she was embarrassing me by discussing my mental state in front of everyone else.

  “If we don’t solve this case soon, Mary Anne is going to have a nervous breakdown,” said Kristy, “and where would that leave the BSC?”

  “Kristy,” I said, blushing even harder. “Don’t listen to her, you guys,” I said to the rest of my friends. “I’m fine — really!”

  “Well, I’m not,” said Jessi, from her seat on the floor. She was stretching, as usual, and her arms looked graceful as she bent from side to side. “I missed a step in ballet class the other day and almost took a really bad fall. I can’t seem to concentrate at all lately.”

  “Me, neither,” said Stacey, who was sitting on the bed between Claud and me. “I got five questions wrong on my math quiz on Friday. Mr. Zizmore asked me if I was sick.”

  “You know,” said Claudia thoughtfully, “I’ve been kind of in a fog, too. I tried to make papier-mâché on Saturday, and I couldn’t remember the recipe for it.”

  “I know I’ve had a few bad dreams myself,” said Shannon.

  “Well,” said Kristy, “obviously Mary Anne isn’t the only one who’s upset about the fires. The question is, what are we going to do about it?” She frowned a little and tugged at her visor.

  Jessi raised her hand, as if she were in school. “Go over all our clues?” she asked tentatively.

  “Good idea,” said Kristy, nodding.

  “Think about each fire — where it was burning and what was burning,” suggested Shannon.

  “And write down the suspects’ names and make notes about whether they’re still suspects or not,” added Claudia. “Nancy Drew does that sometimes. You can use that pad of paper on my desk.”

  “Great,” said Kristy. “Okay, let’s start with a list of suspects. First, there’s Miss Ellway.”

  “I’m almost positive it isn’t her,” I said quickly.

  “I know,” said Kristy. “But we’re just putting everybody on this list. Later we can cross them off.”

  “Well, in that case,” said Jessi, “we’d have to include Nicky Pike, too.”

  Kristy nodded and made a note on the pad.

  “And the book banners, of course,” I said. I was trying to concentrate on what we were doing, but my mind seemed to be running off in directions of its own. The idea of making a list had jogged something in my brain.

  “Is that everybody?” asked Kristy.

  “Everybody I can think of,” said Stacey. “But I’m sure there’s somebody we haven’t thought of, since none of the people on that list seem to be real suspects. We could probably cross every one of them off, based on what we’ve found out so far.”

  Kristy looked deflated. “Well, let’s move on to the next thing,” she said. “We’ll list the fires and make notes about them. First, there was the fire in the bathroom and Deenie was burned.” She made some notes. “That fire wasn’t too bad. It was put out right away.”

  “We never did find out which bathroom it was in,” said Jessi. “Wasn’t Logan supposed to check the boy’s room?”

  Kristy made a note. “Good point,” she said. “We can look into that.”

  “The next fire was in the trash can outside the back door of the children’s room,” said Claudia. “Someone used lighter fluid to start that fire.” She shivered. “That one was a little more serious,” she added.

  “Was that when A Light in the Attic was burned?” asked Jessi.

  “Yup,” said Stacey. “I remember because I talked to the book banner lady afterward.”

  “And the third fire,” said Shannon. “Wasn’t that in another trash can, in the hall by the bathrooms? And Tom Sawyer was the book, right?”

  As the others talked, I had been thinking hard. I was picturing the children’s room, remembering how it was laid out and how the books were shelved. I also kept thinking about that word list, and why it seemed to mean something. Suddenly, I gave a huge gasp.

  “What?” asked Kristy. “Mary Anne, are you okay? What is it?”

  “I just figured something out,” I said. “Something really, really big.”

  “What?” asked Kristy.

  “Okay,” I said. “This is going to sound nuts, but here goes. I think the fires are being set in a pattern. Each book was burned near the place where it was shelved. At least, the Shel Silverstein book was, and so was Tom Sawyer. We definitely have to find out which bathroom the Judy Blume book was burned in.”

  “I can ask right now,” said Claudia. She reached for the phone, called her mom, and reported to us, “It was in the boy’s bathroom.”

  “It fits!” I said. “And that also tells us that the firebug is probably male, since he was able to go in and out of the boy’s bathroom without being noticed.”

  “Mary Anne,” said Kristy, trying to sound patient, “I know this is leading up to something, but I’m not sure I get it yet.”

  “That’s because there’s another part to it,” I said. “I’ve been sitting here thinking about lists, and suddenly I realized something. All three of those books are on the fifth-grade reading list!”

  “Wow,” breathed Jessi. “This is wild.”

  “I just thought of another pattern!” said Stacey suddenly. “All the fires were set on Wednesdays. I’m sure of it, because we always had BSC meetings right after the fires.”

  “The fire at school wasn’t on a Wednesday,” said Claudia.

  “No, but I don’t think that fire is related,” I said. “Let’s put that one aside for now. What we have to do is crack the code, and figure out where the next fire will be.”

  “This is awesome!” said Claudia. “Now I really feel like Nancy Drew.”

  “Are there any other trash cans in the children’s room?” asked Jessi.

  “I can’t remember,” I said.

  “I mean, if there’s one near another book on the fifth-grade list, all we have to do is watch that spot on Wednesday,” Jessi went on. She jumped to her feet. “Let’s go check out the library right now!”

  “We can’t,” I said. “It’s almost six, and the children’s room is about to close. We’ll have to go tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t believe the way the pieces to our theory had fallen together. We finished up our meeting (we had managed to take care of a few baby-sitting calls, too), promising to meet at the fence as soon as we got out of school the next day.

  * * *

  It didn’t take us long to figure out that there was only one spot left in the children’s room for the firebug to try. It was another trash can, tucked away near the reference books in the nonfiction room. “This has to be the place!” I said. I flipped quickly through the fifth-grade reading list and pointed to a book about Abraham Lincoln, with a star next to it, signifying that it was highly recommended. “And I bet that’s the book,” I said. I led my friends to the spot where the book was shelved, and showed it to them.

  We grinned at each other and Kristy gave me a high-five. “I have a feeling we’re on to something,” she said. “As long as our firebug sticks to his pattern, we’ll be able to squash him ourselves.”

  The moment the last bell rang at school the next day, I ran to my locker, grabbed my jacket, and headed out to meet my friends at our spot near the fence. Logan was already there, waiting for me. I had called him the night before to tell him about our plan to stake out the
library, and he was excited about it. Better yet, he was going to be able to join us, since the team didn’t have a game that afternoon.

  “Hey,” he said, in his warm Southern drawl. He smiled at me, and I felt a familiar flutter in my stomach. I’d been so busy lately I’d almost forgotten how much I missed Logan. I smiled back at him, and he leaned down to kiss me.

  “Come on, you guys. There’s no time for that stuff,” said Kristy, from behind me. She grinned at us. “We’re on a case, remember?”

  Logan and I laughed. “Okay, boss,” said Logan. “We’re ready when you are.”

  Stacey and Claud showed up then. They were giggling over something that had just happened in the hall, but Kristy didn’t give them a chance to tell us about it. “Hey, you guys,” she said. “We’re going to be on a stakeout today. We’re supposed to look unobtrusive. You know, like we blend in with our surroundings.” She gave their outfits a critical look.

  Claudia was wearing a big white shirt over a bright pink jumpsuit. Her earrings, also bright pink, were in the shape of flamingos. On her feet were pink high-tops. Stacey was wearing a red miniskirt, a red-and-white striped shirt, red heart-shaped earrings, and short black boots.

  Stacey and Claud inspected each other’s outfits. “I think you look awesome,” said Claud.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” said Stacey, “but I already told you that at lunchtime.”

  They giggled. Kristy glared.

  “They look okay, Kristy,” I said. “Everybody’s used to seeing them dressed like that. If they tried to blend in with their surroundings, then they’d look suspicious.”

  “I guess you’re right,” said Kristy. “Couldn’t you at least take off those earrings, though?” she asked Claudia.

  “What? And de-accessorize my whole outfit?”

  Jessi and Mal arrived then. “I just came by to wish you guys good luck,” said Mal. “I really, really wish I could come with you, but my parents would have a fit. I can’t believe I still have to go straight home from school every day.”

  “We’ll call you the second we have any news,” I promised.

  “Let’s get going,” said Kristy impatiently. “Shannon said she would meet us in the children’s room, and she’s probably already there. And anyway, the firebug isn’t going to wait for us to arrive — know what I mean?”

  That was all it took to get us going. We walked over to the library in a group, but I have to admit that Logan and I dawdled a little, walking a bit more slowly and staying behind everybody else. “I’ve missed you, Mary Anne,” Logan murmured. We were holding hands, and it felt wonderful to be walking next to him.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” I said. For a moment I thought about how awful the past weeks might have been if I hadn’t gotten involved in the Readathon. By now I probably would have worked my way through every sad movie in the video store, and I would be a soggy mess from crying for hours every afternoon.

  The library was packed when we arrived. In addition to the regular Readathon kids, a preschool class was there: about thirteen little kids who were playing in the puppet theatre.

  Charlotte Johanssen was there with Jessi’s sister, Becca. They were sitting in the Raggedy Ann corner, reading. Norman Hill was working at a table with a stack of books in front of him. Nicky Pike and Sean Addison were avoiding the books, as usual, and playing with a wooden puzzle. Vanessa Pike was sitting near the poetry section, leafing through a book and making notes.

  Miss Ellway was at the checkout desk, and Ms. Feld seemed to be everywhere at once. I watched as she helped one of the preschoolers tie a shoe, picked up a pile of books someone had left in the middle of the floor, and listened to a boy report on a book he had read, all in the space of about two minutes.

  My friends and I headed for the reference area, after I had checked in with Ms. Feld. I was supposed to be working that afternoon, but I figured I could help with the stakeout, too. We were clustered near the encyclopedias when Stacey spoke up. “There are too many of us here,” she said. “We’ll probably scare the firebug off. Maybe we should split up.”

  “Good idea,” I replied. “In fact, I was thinking we should keep an eye on the area near the bathrooms. What if the firebug fools us and returns to the scene of his first crime?”

  “I’ll go hang out near the boys’ bathroom,” offered Logan.

  “I’ll watch that other trash can by the door,” said Claudia. “You never know. He might try that place, too.”

  Stacey decided to keep Claudia company, so that left Kristy, Shannon, Jessi, and me in the reference area. We spread out a little and pretended to be busy looking things up. Kristy grabbed a dictionary, and Jessi pulled out volume seven of the encyclopedia. I looked around to see if any kids needed me, and soon I was helping Corrie Addison choose a biography to read. Shannon hovered nearby, trying to act busy, too. We were all watching the trash can, but we made sure none of us was too close to it. We wanted the firebug to think he could do his dirty work without being seen.

  Once I had finished with Corrie, nobody else seemed to need my help, so I took up a post for the stakeout. The kids went about their business, ignoring us completely. I saw Becca and Charlotte giggling together over a picture in one of their books. I heard a couple of kids I didn’t know talking about which books were the shortest, and exchanging tips on how to answer the quiz that Ms. Feld gave on each book. Vanessa Pike was in her own little world in the poetry corner. At one point I saw her looking dreamily out the window as if she were composing yet another poem of her own.

  About half an hour after we had started the stakeout, I spotted Sean Addison as he entered the reference area. I was about to approach him to ask whether he needed any help, when Kristy put her hand on my arm and stopped me. We watched together as Sean went straight to the biography section and pulled out the book on Abraham Lincoln. I recognized its cover, and I let out a tiny gasp. Kristy glared at me and shook her head.

  Sean looked around, as if he had heard my gasp, but we had ducked behind the card catalog. The next thing I saw made my heart race. I didn’t want to believe my eyes, but there was no doubt about what Sean was doing.

  He walked to the trash can, looked around furtively, and lowered the book into it. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small white can. He squirted its contents over the book, and then he stuck the can back into his pocket. From another pocket he pulled a pack of matches. He took one out of the pack and struck it.

  It all happened so fast! I felt as if I were stuck in one of my nightmares. Sean was about to set a book on fire, but I couldn’t seem to move my arms or legs. My voice wasn’t working, either, so I couldn’t even call out to him.

  Luckily, Kristy was on the ball. Just after Sean struck the match, and just before he dropped it into the trash can, Kristy leapt out of our hiding spot, grabbed Sean’s arm, and blew out the match in his hand.

  The firebug had been caught.

  Sean looked stunned. “I was just —” he started to say, but Kristy interrupted him.

  “We saw what you were doing,” she said firmly. “We’re going to have to take you to Mrs. Kishi’s office, Sean.” She began to lead him away from the trash can.

  Sean looked as if he were about to cry.

  “It’s going to be all right,” I said quickly. “We’ll come with you, and you can tell us why you did it.” Kristy and I told Jessi and Shannon what was going on, and then we walked Sean upstairs. On the way, we passed Logan, Claudia, and Stacey, but we didn’t stop to talk. I knew it would be obvious to them that Sean was our firebug.

  In Mrs. Kishi’s office, Sean did begin to cry. He also confessed everything, since he knew he had been caught red-handed. “I’m sorry,” he said, sniffling. “I know it was wrong to start those fires. I just did it because I hate being in the stupid Readathon. I don’t even like to read, but my parents said I had to do it. They always want me and Corrie to do all these activities. Corrie doesn’t mind — she likes taking ice-skating le
ssons and all that dumb stuff. I want to hang out at home, with my friends, but I’m never allowed to.” By this time he was really crying. “Our parents just want us out of the way,” he wailed.

  Kristy and I exchanged glances. Sean was feeling ignored and abandoned, and he was obviously very mixed up about things. He was a kid who needed a lot of help, more than we could give him.

  Mrs. Kishi thanked us and asked us to leave Sean with her. As we closed the door to her office Kristy and I heard her dialing the phone. “She must be calling his parents,” said Kristy.

  “I guess they won’t be able to ignore him now,” I said. I felt so awful for Sean that it was hard to be happy about the fact that we had solved the mystery. Still, it was a relief to know the library fires were a thing of the past. Our hard work had paid off.

  By the time Kristy and I were downstairs again, Mrs. Kishi had spoken to Ms. Feld over the intercom, telling her what had happened with Sean. Ms. Feld pulled me aside as I passed her desk. “I want to thank you and your friends for what you did,” she said in a low voice. “I’m so glad this is finally over. I’d like to ask you not to talk about it while you’re here, though, since I’d rather the other children not know about Sean.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Poor kid. You really have to feel sorry for someone who feels such a strong need for attention.”

  I passed on Ms. Feld’s request to my friends. I had to stay and work for a while, but Kristy and the others decided to leave. We agreed to talk about the day’s events later on, during our meeting.

  I spent the next hour or so trying to put what had happened out of my mind and just concentrate on my job. The Readathon would be ending in a few days, and the kids were frantic to finish up their reading. So I helped Charlotte pick out her last three books, and I tracked down a lost registration form for Sarah Hill. Luckily, the kids were so busy that none of them seemed to have noticed what had happened with Sean, so I didn’t have to explain anything.