“All I’m saying is that it would be a better movie if people were talking,” Mike said as he pulled in to Nigel Floyd’s long driveway. “You could put in special effects.” He grinned and nodded.
Willow rolled her eyes. “You just want to blow stuff up. That’s so juvenile.”
“Listen, guys,” I said, leaning forward. “I’ll get off here if you don’t mind.”
“You want me to stick around, man?” Mike asked. “I can come with you, too, whatever you want.”
“Mike wants to be in the movies,” Willow said in a teasing voice.
“Shut up.” But Mike eyed me with a sense of hope. If he only knew that being cast in this movie meant you had a giant bull’s-eye on your back.
I shook my head. “No, I’m just making this a quick visit.” I would sneak in and get the hat. Then I’d call Stark and Black, have them catch Floyd. I would beat Ben. “I’ll have a friend pick me up,” I said as I opened the door.
Mike shrugged. “That’s cool. You can always call me if you need something, okay, cuz?”
“Sure thing.” I got out and watched Mike make a U-turn. I could hear them argue through the open windows.
I was glad to be alone, even if it was dark and quiet. Sure, this should be a slam-dunk, but I still had to get past Floyd’s gates and security system. I kind of wished I had Henry with me now—he’d have a gadget for that.
Turns out I didn’t need any help. The gate to Floyd’s place was open, and the lights that had made the place look so fancy just two days ago were off. It made everything dark and deserted.
What was going on here?
I walked past the open gate, and up the winding driveway. No alarms went off, and no security guards stopped me. When I got to the circular driveway in front of the mansion, it was still dark, and the fountain wasn’t running. This was seriously weird.
To get to the small house down the hill, I knew I had to go through the mansion. So I tried the front door. It was open. Now there were about a million alarm bells going off inside my head.
But I was after a bad dude here, so I couldn’t just give up. I tried to be as quiet as possible when I went inside. I couldn’t bump into tables or anything like that.
I didn’t need to worry. The place was completely empty: no furniture, or art on the wall. Everything was gone, except for that fuzzy rug and the tables that hung from the ceiling. It was kind of sad, really. Obviously, Floyd had moved out.
My sneakers made squeaky noises on the marble floor, so I was careful to walk slowly as I found my way to the double doors and out to the deck. The lounge chairs were still there but were shoved to one side. I walked down the wooden steps and past the pool, where a half-deflated beach ball drifted in the water. This place was depressing.
Then I saw the house down the hill. The lights were on!
That had to mean my hunch was right: Floyd was here. Maybe leaving his mansion wide-open was just a ruse, to make us think he skipped town. He was probably plotting his heist of the drone-system prototype on Monday.
I walked down the steps, hoping Floyd wouldn’t be using the hat. I mean, it would be hard to catch him if he was invisible, right?
There was piano music coming from the house. It sounded like someone was actually playing. This was good. It would be hard for Floyd to hear me come in.
I tried the side door—it was open!
I snuck inside the mudroom. The piano music was much louder inside. Past the dark mudroom was an old kitchen. There was an open bread bag on the counter, along with a jar of peanut butter and chocolate spread. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, and clean ones were stacked on a dish rack. A few pots were left on the counter. This dude was kind of messy.
I slowly walked into the kitchen, and realized the music was coming from another room, at the end of a hallway at the back of the kitchen. I made my way toward the sound, down the hall, past some old pictures. They were of Floyd when he was much younger, and a few of Kate. I also saw photos of Larry, with dorkier glasses than he wore now.
Then the music stopped.
I froze. But I knew I couldn’t wait there forever. I had to find Floyd!
I inched my way down the hall, careful to not knock down any pictures with my backpack. Once I reached the entry to what looked like the living room, I stopped. I saw the piano. But not Floyd.
I felt something brush against my arm. Maybe that was him, wearing the Dangerous Double!
I turned around, but there was no one there.
Then I felt someone grab my backpack. Pull me back. And tackle me to the floor.
Kate was right up in my face. “Linc?”
38
SATURDAY, 8:16 P.M.
SHE HELPED ME UP AND LAUGHED. “OH my, you scared the heck out of me. I thought you were breaking in.”
“I was,” I said, straightening my jacket and backpack. I really needed Henry to come up with a gadget so people couldn’t tackle me by grabbing my backpack. An Escape-a-Pack or something. “But I was looking for Mr. Floyd.”
Kate motioned for me to sit on the piano bench. “Why did you need him? The movie is all but finished, you know. I’m just here to get a few things I had stored here—I’m flying out of town for a new production late tomorrow night.”
I tried to think of how to tell her about Ethan Melais without showing all my cards, or having to explain the whole case. But I couldn’t think of a way. And Kate had been nice to me—in fact, she’d been the only friendly person on the set.
So I spilled my guts, again. About me being a junior secret agent, Pandora and their mission to catch Ethan Melais, and how Floyd was our only suspect left.
Kate sat on the arm of the sofa, nodding as I told her the story. When I was done, she shook her head, looking shocked. “I’ve known Nigel for years. . . . Unbelievable. And you really think he’s this Ethan Melais?”
“Yes.” I glanced around, hoping to find him hiding behind the piano or something. This house had to be his hiding spot—it was my best and only lead. If Ethan Melais wasn’t here, then where?
“I’m sorry, but Nigel isn’t here,” Kate said, confirming my suspicions.
“Bummer,” I mumbled.
“But then, if he is Ethan Melais, I’m sure he’ll be back home any minute. With the movie being suspended now.”
I was about to argue that Floyd already moved out—Kate had to know that, right? But then I saw how she crossed her arms, and looked . . . antsy. And a little nervous.
Kate was hiding Ethan Melais.
I knew it in my gut. So where was he?
Kate stood. “Well, I guess that’s it. Nigel isn’t here—you can look for him if you want,” she added with a laugh.
I hesitated as I got up from the piano bench. My mind was racing, trying to think of an excuse, a reason for me to stick around longer and flush Floyd from whatever hiding spot he was in.
But Kate slowly ushered me down the hall, and I felt my opportunity slip the closer I got to the kitchen.
“Your Ethan Melais is quite the thief,” Kate said behind me. “That takes some guts, to sneak into top-level meetings like that.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the open bedroom door down the hall, but it was too dark to spot Floyd.
“What a character,” Kate said once we were in the kitchen.
I turned around and looked her in the eye. Blinked. Because all the puzzle pieces fell into place now.
A character.
“Ethan Melais is a character,” I said before I could think. “He’s not a real guy. You’re Ethan Melais!”
Kate smiled. “Finally, someone is smart enough to figure it out—an eleven-year-old.”
“Actually, I’m twelve,” I said.
Right before she grabbed the frying pan off the kitchen counter.
And hit me on the head.
39
SATURDAY, NO IDEA WHAT TIME
“LINC . . .” I HEARD SOMEONE CALLING my name through a tunnel. Or at least it sounded that way, because
my ear was buzzing. “Linc!” There was a tap on my cheek. And another.
I opened my eyes to look right into Kate’s.
She smiled and said, “Good, you’re back.”
Then I remembered: She was Ethan Melais. I had to bust her and find the Dangerous Double!
I tried to get up, only to realize I was cuffed to a kitchen chair. Ironically, Kate had used Henry’s Instacuff.
“Stay awhile,” Kate said. “At least until I figure out what to do with you.” Considering this woman had tried to kill me three times already, I wasn’t feeling so optimistic about my chances of survival this time around.
“I brought backup, you know,” I lied. “CIA agents will be busting through that door any second now.”
“No, they won’t.” Kate pulled up a chair and sat across from me.
We were in the middle of the kitchen. Behind her were the sink and the dish rack, full of plates and knives. All I had to do was get a knife and I could get out.
“So you’ve been Ethan Melais all this time,” I said, ignoring the pounding headache I had from her hitting me with the frying pan.
Kate nodded, looking very proud of herself. “It started as a joke, if you can believe it. Nigel and I had just finished shooting a movie in Greece—he hated it, of course, just like all the films he makes. So over dinner one night, I jokingly suggested he put the movie out under a fake name. Directors do it all the time.”
“Alan Something,” I said, remembering my conversation with Savannah.
“Alan Smithee.” Kate nodded. “But that was too obvious. Did you know ‘Alan Smithee’ is really an anagram for ‘the Alias Men’?”
I closed my eyes, feeling like the biggest fool ever. Grandpa had figured this out long before—why hadn’t I listened to him? “And Ethan Melais is, too.”
Kate laughed. I would like to say it was an evil laugh, but she sounded like a regular, nice person. “The next day, I had some business cards printed, and I came up with a disguise. As a joke.” Her smile faded. “I was sitting in the hotel lobby, waiting for Nigel, who was late as usual, when I saw several men go into this meeting room. Since we had booked most of the hotel, I thought they were with the production company. So I decided to take my prank a little further, and I went inside the meeting.”
I eyed the back door to the right of me, but no one was going to come and save me. And the cuffs were way too good. Thanks a lot, Henry. I had to keep Kate talking, to buy myself time to come up with a plan. “You stole a secret.”
She nodded. “It was a sales meeting, unbelievably boring—but they were selling some high-tech computer chips. They thought I was a buyer, so I left the Ethan Melais business card. I sold the information to the company’s competitors and used the money to help Nigel fund his next film. It kept me employed and him making movies.”
“Everyone thought you were real—that Ethan Melais was a real guy.”
Kate nodded. “To throw people off the trail, I started spreading rumors that Ethan Melais was French-Canadian, that he traveled the world and was a master of disguise.” She smiled. “I had a blast creating this character. I figured it was only a matter of time before someone figured out he wasn’t real, and made the connection to the ‘Alan Smithee’ or ‘the Alias Men’ anagram, but . . .”
“No one did.”
“Until you, right now.”
“Actually, my grandpa figured it out.”
She leaned forward and got closer. Her eyes were hard—why hadn’t I seen that before? “Those artifacts Pandora holds—I can’t wait to get my hands on them.”
“How did you know Savannah had the hat?” I asked, tugging at the Instacuff.
Kate smiled. “I did her makeup tonight and saw the costume. I was never going to kill her, you know.”
“You were just accidentally shooting at her, right.” I swallowed. “I could lie and pretend I won’t tell anyone that you’re Ethan Melais.”
She let out a deep sigh. “But you wouldn’t insult my intelligence.”
“Now what are you going to do with me?” I might as well ask, since there was no way I could break free. Henry’s Instacuff was too tight around my wrists.
Kate stood. “I never wanted you dead, Linc.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. You tried to kill me three times!”
“That’s because I thought you had the Chaplin hat.” Kate gave me a hard stare. “First I set off the runaway car—that didn’t do the trick. You outsmarted me when I directed our chief cameraman, John, to put you in the current—or your brother, Ben, rather. Then you survived the Ferris wheel explosion . . .” She shook her head. “You’re a tough kid to kill.”
“I try.” I pulled at the cuffs, but it was no use.
“And I shouldn’t have bothered, because Savannah had the hat all along.” Kate went down the hall, and came back with a bowler hat. That was the Dangerous Double! I was so close it was actually painful. Or maybe that was the bump from Kate hitting me on the head.
Kate smiled and turned on the gas stove. “I’m really sorry to have to do this to someone as smart as you. But I need to keep my identity a secret. I need for the authorities to be looking for Ethan Melais like he’s a real person. And I need for them to think he’s a man, not a woman.”
I could already smell the gas.
“I’ll light one of those dry bushes outside on fire, then all I need is for the gas to build up and . . . boom.” She lifted the hat, and carefully placed it on her head. “Wish me luck,” she said, and tilted it.
Kate disappeared.
I watched the kitchen door open. And close again.
Leaving me there alone. Tied up.
To die.
40
SATURDAY, 9:05 P.M.
YOU KNOW DURING A TEST, WHEN IT’S so quiet you want to yell something random just to break the silence? It was even quieter than that in this kitchen. All I could hear were Kate’s footsteps, then a car starting and driving away.
Then nothing. There was only the hissing noise of the stove, which wasn’t exactly comforting.
I imagined one of the bushes on fire, right outside.
My mind was racing. I had to get out of this Instacuff! I needed magnets.
On the fridge! There were about half a dozen of them, up high. If I could get two of them, I could probably undo the cuff. I was stuck to the chair, but I could walk over. Sort of.
The stove was still hissing. And the place was beginning to smell like a bad fart. I had to hurry.
I reached the fridge and turned around so my back was against it. But the magnets were up too high to reach with my hands.
So I faced the fridge again. And inched one of the magnets down with my chin. But it fell to the floor.
I cursed under my breath. The gas kept hissing—and it was stressing me out big time. Plus the smell was making me sick to my stomach.
Magnet two inched down, and so did magnet number three—I turned to grab them with my hands. All I needed was to put them together and I’d be out of these cuffs.
But then I heard the footsteps on the path. Kate! She was coming back. Maybe she anticipated I’d be making a run for it.
With the magnets clutched in my palm, I backed away from the fridge, but then I realized I didn’t care if she knew I was breaking free.
I was going to jump Kate when she walked in. With the chair still stuck to my back, I rushed to the door. Waited for it to open, ready to take down evil Kate.
The door opened.
And I bumped right into Savannah.
“Linc?” She looked over my shoulder. “What happened—who tied you up?”
“Kate did!” I pushed her out the door. “But we have to get out of here, now!”
Behind her, Ben was ready to go inside. “Baker? I should’ve known you’d start a fire.”
“Out, now!” I yelled.
Thankfully, Ben and Savannah didn’t question me—they followed me right up the hill, back toward the mansion. It’s hard to hurry when
you have a kitchen chair strapped to your back, let me tell you. When we reached the pool, Ben helped me undo the Instacuffs.
We both turned around to look at the house down the hill.
“I guess I could have turned off the stove,” I said, more to myself than to Savannah and Ben.
“What?” I saw Ben mouth. But I couldn’t hear him, because there was a giant explosion down the hill.
The house we’d left just minutes ago was now a ball of flames.
41
SATURDAY, 9:25 P.M.
WHILE WE WATCHED THE FIREFIGHTERS battle the blaze, Ben told me how Savannah came looking for me at the Hollywood Bowl. And how Ben had asked her for a ride to Floyd’s house, because like me, he thought Floyd was Ethan Melais. Because Ben had had to debrief Stark and Black, he and Savannah were twenty minutes behind me. They’d gotten here just as the man himself got home with his assistant, Larry. But Floyd had an airtight alibi.
“I’ve been dealing with the repo men the rest of the afternoon and this evening,” Floyd said. He sat down on one of the fancy pool chairs and kicked off his orange sneakers with a sigh. “It’s all gone. The furniture, the house here, and the one downhill.” Floyd pointed at the flames. “Well, that house is quite literally gone.”
I asked Floyd, “So you didn’t know Kate created a character, an international thief named Ethan Melais?”
Floyd gave me a confused look. “Does this have something to do with the car crash?”
I nodded.
“And the business with your brother almost drowning? Plus the Ferris wheel mess—Kate was causing all this?” Floyd looked shocked. There was no posing left in the guy, which was kind of nice. “I’ve been so distracted by the financial trouble. And before that, it was one film production after another. I only worried about the artistic side—the film, my vision. I was just happy when we got cash infusions when we needed them. Didn’t ask where they came from.”
I told them about Ethan Melais, the thefts, the money, and how Kate had used this character to go undetected for so long.
The Alias Men Page 14