Stacey and the Mystery of Stoneybrook

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Stacey and the Mystery of Stoneybrook Page 5

by Ann M. Martin


  Then I remembered that Kristy had called on Saturday to tell me about some map she’d found on Friday night. Maybe she could come over and bring the map, along with some of those old books of Watson’s. Kristy had said she really hadn’t found much in the books, but maybe if we went through them all, we’d come up with something. It would be fun to play detective, anyway. I called Kristy up.

  “Kristy, it’s Stace. What’re you doing today?”

  “I’ve got no plans,” she said. “I don’t even have to watch the kids, since Mom and Watson took them to the mall to shop for shoes.”

  “How about bringing over that old map and the books?” I said. “Charlotte’s home sick, here, and we’d love to look at them.”

  “Great,” said Kristy. “Hold on, let me see if Nannie can drive me over.”

  The arrangements were made. While we waited for Kristy, Charlotte and I washed the breakfast dishes. Then she took her medicine without fussing too much. Finally we settled in on the front steps (Charlotte had felt good enough to get dressed that morning) and waited for Kristy to show up. While we waited, we talked about the old house.

  “I’m glad we were together when we heard those noises, Stacey,” said Charlotte. “That was scary. But you know, I feel like there’s something interesting about that house. I hope we can find out more about it.”

  I told her a little about the map Kristy had found, but not too much. I thought that the idea of burial grounds might be a little too much for Charlotte, but she seemed fascinated.

  By the time Kristy got out of the Pink Clinker (Nannie’s old car) in front of our house, Charlotte’s excitement was at an all-time high.

  “Where are the books, Kristy?” she asked, without even saying hello. She would have dived into the backseat and hauled out the box if I hadn’t stopped her.

  “Easy, Charlotte. You’re still sick, remember?” I said. “I know you love mysteries, but let’s take our time. We’ve got all day.”

  Charlotte does love mysteries, and I have to say that she’s a pretty good sleuth. She played a big part in solving the mystery of an old diary that Mallory had found in a trunk in our attic. That mystery had led us to find the portrait of a beautiful woman, which now hung over our fireplace. Back then, we thought my house might be haunted, but that was nothing compared to what we were facing now.

  We brought the box of books inside and spread ourselves out in the living room. We each took a book and began to read. After awhile we traded books and read some more. Kristy had been right. There wasn’t much in them. They were interesting, but we couldn’t see any clues to the mystery of the old house.

  “Where’s that map, Kristy?” I asked. “Let’s take a look at it.”

  Kristy took it out and opened it carefully.

  “Wow, that’s really old, isn’t it?” asked Charlotte. “The writing on it is so weird. What does it say?”

  I couldn’t make it out too well, either, but it did seem to show that house. As far as the burial-ground business, I couldn’t be sure. The map wasn’t like any I’d ever seen. It had strange signs and symbols on it, and markings in a faded red color. I wondered if it was the real McCoy or just something someone had made up for fun.

  “How do we know that this map is really as old as it looks?” I asked.

  Kristy and Charlotte both just gave me a look. They wanted to believe in the map and in the mystery of the old house. They had no doubts about the map being genuine.

  “I wonder who owns that house,” I said. I was really starting to get interested in that “dumb old house,” in spite of myself. Laine would never believe it. If she ever got involved in a mystery back in New York, it would probably have to do with something like, “Who stole the countess’s jewels from the hotel safe?” or “Does the ghost of Elvis haunt the Hard Rock Cafe?”

  “I don’t know who owns it. Nobody’s lived there for years,” Kristy said. “But I don’t remember there ever being a ‘for sale’ sign in front of that house.”

  “Do you think the owner is even still alive?” asked Charlotte. She gulped. “Maybe that was his ghost we heard.”

  “No, he must be alive somewhere. How else could that developer ever have bought the house in order to knock it down?” Kristy looked thoughtful. “I wonder if we could find him.”

  “You keep saying ‘he,’” I said. “The owner could be a woman, you know. Anyway, how can we find out who the owner is? Do you think she still lives in the area?”

  “We could find out everything we need to know about the house if only we could track him — or her — down,” said Kristy. “Maybe Mary Anne would have some good ideas. Her family has lived around here for a long time.”

  I went to the phone and dialed Mary Anne’s number. Luckily, she was home.

  “Mary Anne, did you hear about the map that Kristy found?” I asked, after we’d said hello, how are you, and all that. She hadn’t, so I told her about it.

  “It sounds like a mystery, all right,” she said. “But where do we go from here?” I didn’t know what to tell her.

  Kristy motioned for me to give her the phone. “Mary Anne,” she said. “Keep on the lookout for clues. You never know where you might find one. Maybe there are some old books or documents somewhere in that old house of yours.”

  Since Mary Anne lived with Dawn now, they really might find some clues in their house. It’s one of the oldest houses around here, and it has some mysteries of its own. That secret passage has been the site of all kinds of strange happenings.

  “Dawn’s out sitting for the Rodowskys, but as soon as she gets back I’ll ask her if she’s got any ideas,” said Mary Anne. “It’s kind of fun to have another mystery to solve, isn’t it?”

  Next we called Claudia. She got all excited about the books and the map, and she wanted to come right over and look at them and hear more about what Kristy had found out. She was stuck at home, though, doing homework. (Claud’s really smart — even if she isn’t an actual genius like her sister, Janine — but her grades don’t show it. If she doesn’t keep her grades up she might have to quit the Baby-sitters Club. No way did we want that to happen.)

  “Stay put and do your homework, Claud,” I said. “But keep your eyes and ears open in the next few days. You can never tell where or when a clue might turn up.”

  We tried to call Mallory, since she loves mysteries, too, but Mrs. Pike said that Mal had taken Margo and Claire (two of her little sisters) on a special Teddy Bears’ Picnic. Mal’s such a terrific big sister. I remembered now that she’d been planning this for awhile. She was going to make little sandwiches and “tea,” and help the girls dress up their teddy bears in special outfits. It sounded like fun. I asked Mrs. Pike to tell Mallory to call me back when she got home.

  We didn’t even try to call Jessi, since we knew she was away for the weekend. So that was everyone. If we all kept on the alert for clues, maybe we could crack this case.

  To be honest, I didn’t really even know for sure if we had a mystery on our hands. This burial-ground story was hard to prove, and that old map was so hard to read. I wasn’t positive that Kristy had gotten it right. Maybe all that stuff we’d seen and heard at the house was just our imaginations. Maybe we were making something out of nothing.

  But there was Charlotte, sitting on the couch with one of Watson’s old books. She was flipping through it one more time, combing for clues. I could see that, for awhile anyway, she’d forgotten that she was sick. She’d forgotten that she was stuck inside for another day and a half. And she’d forgotten that her parents were a plane ride away. Mystery or not, the old house was keeping us both busy, and I was thankful for that.

  On Monday, Claud had a job sitting for the Perkins girls, Gabbie and Myriah. Gabbie’s almost three, and Myriah’s almost six. We all like them a lot. They also have a baby sister named Laura. Mrs. Perkins was taking Laura to Dr. Dellenkamp to have her cough checked out.

  When Claudia arrived, Chewy — the Perkinses’ big black Labrador retrie
ver — was running around in circles. Myriah was holding his favorite toy, a disgusting, ancient, well-chewed tennis ball. She wouldn’t throw it for him, and it was driving him nuts. He barked as he ran, begging her to throw it.

  “Claudee Kishi!” yelled Gabbie. “Hi, Claudee Kishi! Toshe me up!” Gabbie always calls us by our full names, and “toshe me up” is an expression she invented and uses all the time. Basically, it means, “Pick me up and give me a big hug.” Claud was glad to oblige, since Gabbie is an extremely huggable girl.

  “I have a great idea, guys,” said Claud. “How about if we go to the library for Story Hour? Today they’re going to read a couple of your favorite books. Guess which ones. Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel and The Little House. And then, after they read the books, everybody gets to help make a mural of the town in The Little House.”

  Claud had found out about Story Hour from her mom. Mrs. Kishi is the head librarian, so she knows about all the stuff that goes on there. Claud had thought she’d check out Story Hour to see if it was a good way to spend some time with the kids we were sitting for.

  “Yea!” yelled Gabbie. “What’s a mural?”

  “It’s a big, giant picture, Gabbers,” said Myriah. “Can Chewy come, Claudia? Oh, boy, I can’t wait!”

  They do love those two books. Have you ever read The Little House? It’s about this house that was once in the country, and then slowly a big city gets built up around it. I won’t spoil the ending, but trust me, it’s a great book.

  Claud had another motive for going to the library. She couldn’t stop thinking about the old house being on the site of a burial ground. Maybe, she thought, she could find out more by browsing through the local history section. Claud must have been obsessed with that house: It’s not like her to do much voluntary reading (besides Nancy Drew, of course).

  She piled Gabbie and Myriah into the Perkinses’ big red wagon — she’d vetoed the idea of Chewy coming along — and set off for the library. The girls were excited about going, since the library is one of their favorite places. They go every week to check out books and this would be like a bonus visit for them.

  “Can we take out a book today, Claudee Kishi?” asked Gabbie.

  “I want to take out five books,” said Myriah. “This many,” she added, holding up all five fingers on her right hand. “Because I’m five years old. Five and a half, really. Right, Claudia?”

  “That’s right, Myriah. And you can both take out as many books as you like today,” said Claudia. “Did you know that my mommy is the boss of the whole library?” she added.

  “Does she live there?” asked Myriah. “I always wanted to sleep overnight at the library. I bet she gets to whenever she wants.”

  Claudia’s mom had told us once that kids really do think she lives at the library. After all, she’s always there! When they see her somewhere else in town, like at the supermarket, sometimes they just stop and stare at her. They can’t believe she’s just like a regular person. She’s the “liberrian.”

  Claud cleared up Myriah’s confusion, and the girls settled into the trip.

  “The sun’ll come out tomorrow,” sang Gabbie.

  “Bet your bottom dollar there’ll be sun,” chimed in Myriah.

  Claudia smiled as she pulled them along. Gabbie and Myriah seem to know all the words to a million songs, and they love to sing them all the way through. After they finished “Tomorrow,” they ran through “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile.” They must have seen Annie a couple of hundred times.

  “I know you, I danced with you once upon a dream,” sang Myriah. They’d started to act out their favorite scenes from Sleeping Beauty. Myriah was playing the part of the prince.

  “Oh! I have to go now!” said Gabbie, dramatically. She was Sleeping Beauty. She was very convincing in the role.

  When they got to the library, Claud stopped into the office to see her mom. The girls followed her quietly. They know how to behave in the library, especially when the big boss is looking right at them.

  Claudia then settled the girls in the children’s room. Story Hour was just about to start. They were right on time. Then she headed back into the main room. She’d forgotten where the local history books were kept, even though we’ve looked at them before. But there was no way she was going to ask her mom. It was embarrassing to be the head librarian’s daughter and not even know her way around the library. Fortunately this guy we know, Bruce Schermerhorn, is working there as a page, shelving the books that people return. Claud asked him where the books were, and he helped her find the ones she wanted.

  She took them to a chair where she could be comfortable and also keep an eye on Gabbie and Myriah. They seemed to be having a good time listening to the stories.

  The first two volumes Claudia looked at were hard to get through. They were the kind of dry historical books that are absolutely no fun to read. But Claud did her best. It wasn’t easy for her, trying to plow through that material. Still, she stuck with it. Finally she realized that she wasn’t getting anywhere.

  She picked up one of the other books and took a look at it. It seemed to be full of old records of the town of Stoneybrook. There were birth records and death records and property-tax records and even a map. This stuff looked even more boring than what she’d looked at before. Claud gritted her teeth and kept looking. She was determined to get something out of this visit to the library.

  She picked up a second book of old town records and worked her way through it until her eyes lit on a couple of paragraphs that looked as though they had something to do with “our” house. From what she’d read so far, it did seem as though the town was built on ancient burial grounds. And the house was, she thought, on a sacred spot. The people who had written down the records didn’t seem to be too concerned about it, but Claud was getting chills up and down her spine. How could anyone think that such a thing didn’t matter? What about the spirits of the dead who had been buried there? How could they ever be at rest with houses and banks and Burger Kings on top of them?

  Claud got a grip on herself. Before she totally flew off the handle, she knew she should keep looking to see if she could find out who owned the house. Property-tax records should be just the ticket, she thought. She kept poring over the musty old book. And then she found it! The owner’s name. Ronald Hennessey. It was right there in black and white.

  Claud felt like cheering. This was a major discovery. But what good did a name do unless she could find out more about who Ronald Hennessey was? Was he still alive? Where did he live now? He sure didn’t live in the house he owned, and he hadn’t for years.

  Claud sat for a moment and thought. Where could she look next? She glanced into the children’s room. All the Story Hour kids were working on a big messy mural full of apartment buildings and highways. There seemed to be dinosaurs roaming the streets, too. The Little House stood forlornly in the middle of the picture. Story Hour was almost over.

  Finally, Claud went over to her mom’s desk. “Mom, where would you look to see if someone who used to live in Stoneybrook still does live in Stoneybrook?”

  Mrs. Kishi looked up at Claudia, surprised. She must have wondered what Claud was up to, but she didn’t ask. She just smiled a little and said, “Well, I guess I’d try the phone book.”

  Claudia told me later that she wished there was a trapdoor she could fall into right then. How dumb she’d been! She’d gotten so wrapped up in her complicated historical research that she’d never even thought of using a regular old phone book.

  She went to the reference desk, where they keep all the phone books for the whole country. She found the local one and opened it right up to the exact page that Ronald Hennessey was on. Guess what. He was in there. It was as easy as that.

  Claud looked at the address listed. Stoneybrook Manor. That was a nursing home. Of course, Mr. Hennessey must be pretty old by now, she realized. She copied down the address and went off to collect Gabbie and Myriah.

  Story Hour was
just ending, but Claud had to hang around for awhile as the girls picked out some books to take home. Gabbie just kind of grabbed randomly, but Myriah seemed to have definite ideas about which ones she liked and which ones were “ucky.” While she waited, Claud strolled over to look at the finished mural. There was a lot going on in that picture, a lot that the illustrator of The Little House wouldn’t recognize. Besides the dinosaurs, there were soldiers with amazing weaponry, witches holding brooms, ballerinas, and a Candy Land-like area where lollipops grew. It was a great mural.

  Finally, the girls had all the books they wanted. They went to the desk to check them out.

  “What’s your name?” asked the lady at the desk.

  “Gabbie,” said Gabbie. “What’s yours?”

  Claudia laughed and went over to help. “These are the Perkins girls,” she said. “Gabbie and Myriah.” The clerk must have been new, or else she’d have recognized them. She looked up their cards and checked out the books. It had turned out to be a pretty big stack, so Claud helped carry them out to the wagon.

  The girls piled in with their books and spent the trip home telling each other and Claudia the story of Mike Mulligan. They decided that Mike should have lived in the Little House.

  Claud got them home just as Mrs. Perkins returned from the doctor’s office. Dr. Dellenkamp had given her a prescription for Laura and said that she’d be fine in no time.

  By then it was almost time for the Baby-sitters Club meeting, so Claud ran home as soon as she’d said her good-byes to the girls and to Mrs. Perkins. She was excited about what she’d found out and proud of herself for sticking with the research. She was dying to tell us all about Mr. Ronald Hennessey.

  While Claudia was doing her research at the library, Charlotte and I were doing some research of our own.

  It was Monday afternoon. I’d gotten home from school to find Charlotte feeling “all well,” as she had put it. My mom, who had spent the day with Charlotte, headed out to do some errands.

 

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