Contents
* * *
Title Page
Contents
Frontispiece
Copyright
Decoder
London
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Caribbean Islands
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
At the Traitor’s Gate: The Tower of London
Yo Ho, Yo Ho, It’s a Decoding Life for Me!
Break the Code
A Brief (Pirate) History of Tortuga and Port Royal
Zack Is Hungry . . . Are You?
Sample Chapter from WHO IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO?
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Copyright © 2019 by HMH IP Company Unlimited Company.
CARMEN SANDIEGO and associated logos and design are trademarks of HMH IP Company Unlimited Company.
All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to [email protected] or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.
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Cover illustration © 2019 by HMH IP Company Unlimited Company
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Hapka, Catherine.
Title: Clue by clue / Catherine Hapka.
Description: Boston ; New York : HMH Books for Young Readers, 2019. | Series: Carmen Sandiego
Identifiers: LCCN 2018031761 | ISBN 9781328553089 (hardback)
Subjects: LCSH: Toy and movable books—Specimens. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Media Tie-In. | JUVENILE FICTION / Interactive Adventures. | JUVENILE FICTION / Law & Crime.
Classification: LCC PZ7.H1996 Clu 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018031761
eISBN 978-0-358-05588-4
v1.0419
Use this decoder wheel to crack the codes throughout the book!
Chapter 1
London, England, 10:00 a.m., Local Time
Carmen Sandiego paused. Half a block ahead, Tigress was strolling along the busy city street, stopping occasionally to glance into shop windows. With her razor-sharp claws tucked into the pockets of her stylish short trench coat, she looked like just another chic young Londoner. But Carmen knew better . . .
“Hey, Red, is our feline friend still window-shopping?” a voice spoke in Carmen’s ear.
“That’s what she wants everyone to think, Player,” Carmen replied in a low voice. Her comm-link earrings could pick up even the quietest whisper—very handy, especially while tailing someone. “But I’m sure Tigress didn’t come all this way to go on a five-fingered spree through London’s blingiest boutiques.”
Up ahead, Tigress stopped again and glanced around. Carmen ducked into a doorway. She held her breath. Had Tigress spotted her distinctive red fedora and trench coat? For a second, Carmen wondered if she should have gone incognito in a hoodie or something. Then again, it wouldn’t have made much difference. Tigress wouldn’t be fooled for a second—she knew Carmen’s face as well as her own.
“All clear,” Carmen murmured when Tigress moved on. Then Carmen hurried forward, not wanting to lose sight of her target. She’d been following Tigress through London, England, for half an hour. All the way from Victoria station to where they were now—the Knightsbridge neighborhood, according to Player. Very posh and exclusive. A shopper’s mecca of high-end stores, from the world-famous Harrods department store to all sorts of designer boutiques—and some of the most expensive luxury apartments in the world.
Player loved finding out that kind of detail about the places Carmen visited. And he was good at it, too. No wonder—he was a high-tech whiz kid who spent most of his time exploring every bit and byte of the web. Carmen had never met Player in person, but he was a trusted part of her crew. Without his help, it would be a lot harder for her to carry out her self-appointed mission—traveling the world, righting wrongs, and stealing from criminals. In particular, the super-secret crime empire known as VILE.
Up ahead, Tigress suddenly dodged out of sight down an alley between a fancy restaurant—still closed at this early hour—and a large, stately old Victorian house. Carmen crept forward. Was this a trap? Tigress was clever—possibly the wiliest operative VILE had ever trained. Well, aside from Carmen herself, of course . . .
She caught up just in time to see Tigress slip into one of the buildings through a window. “She went into a house,” she told Player.
“The one you’re standing in front of right now? Hang on—I’ll find out more.” Player didn’t leave her hanging for long. “Found it on GPS,” he said. “That house belongs to a rich guy named Percival Weston-Blather. Fifty-four years old. No occupation listed.”
“You had me at ‘rich guy,’” Carmen said. “Mr. Weston-Blather must have something valuable in there.”
“That would explain the chatter.”
Carmen nodded, even though she knew Player couldn’t see her. The “chatter,” as he called it, was the reason she was here. Player was always nosing around the dark web, the regular web, and every cyber place in between for any secret signs or messages about VILE—Villains’ International League of Evil. The worst bunch of rogues and criminals that nobody ever heard of. Carmen’s sworn nemesis. And her former family . . . well, sort of . . .
She shook those thoughts out of her head. “VILE is greedy,” she whispered to Player. “But they wouldn’t waste time and resources stealing some ordinary rich guy’s gold watch and cuff links.”
“Right. They’ve got to be after something big—something worth their effort,” Player said.
Carmen nodded again. So what had they sent Tigress to steal this time?
“One way to find out,” Carmen murmured, sidling closer to the open window and peeking in past the thick velvet floor-to-ceiling curtains. The curtains blocked most of the bright morning sunlight, but Carmen could see well enough once her eyes adjusted to the dimness within. “Whoa! Talk about a treasure trove!”
“What is it, Red?” Player whispered in her ear. “What kind of treasure are we talking about? Gold bars? High-tech equipment? Antique snuffboxes? What?”
Carmen’s eyes swept the large room. It was set up like a museum exhibit, with glass-topped display cases instead of regular furniture. Framed documents and other stuff covered the walls.
“Pirate booty,” she whispered. “Swords, axes, muskets, and a couple of full-size cannons. Chests full of gold doubloon coins and jewels. Even a big old tattered Jolly Roger!”
“The pirate flag,” Player said.
Carmen nodded. “Looks like our rich guy is a collector.”
Inside, Tigress had shed her trench coat, revealing the catsuit underneath. She’d swapped out her designer sunglasses for night-vision goggles that would make it easier to see in the dim room. Now she was moving toward one of the display cases at the far end. Carmen leaned forward, trying to see what the VILE operative was after.
“Doubloons, huh?” Player said. “Maybe VILE is trying to make up for those doubloons you stopped them from stealing in Ecuador recently. How much d’you think all that pirate booty is worth?”
“Plenty,” Carmen replied softly. “But Tigress came on foot. How’s she planning to
get it all out of here?”
“Maybe VILE is sending some kind of transport.”
“Maybe.”
Carmen leaned forward as Tigress flexed the razor-sharp claws on the ends of her gloves and used one index finger to slice a hole in the glass case. Then the VILE operative pulled something out—a piece of ancient-looking parchment, yellowed, stained, and torn.
Tigress held it up to catch the light coming in through the windows, studying it. Carmen’s eyes widened as she, too, got a better look. It appeared to be a map. Could it be a treasure map?
She pulled a compact mirror out of her pocket. Only it wasn’t really a compact—it was a high-tech optical scanner. Even from this distance, she should be able to get a pretty good image of that map . . .
Click!
Tigress whirled around at the almost inaudible sound of the scanner. “You!” she cried.
Chapter 2
Carmen barely had time to shove the compact in her pocket before Tigress was on her, a whirling dervish of claws and hair and angry shrieks. She yanked Carmen in through the window, diving at her face with those claws.
“Well, well—look what the cat dragged in!” she cried, her eyes flashing with fury.
Carmen pulled free, ducking and rolling out of reach. But just barely . . .
“What’s the map for, Tigress?” she asked, diving toward the scrap of paper, which Tigress had dropped.
“Not so fast,” Tigress snarled, snatching it up and shoving it into her sleeve. “That belongs to me. But you can have this if you want it!”
She grabbed a cannonball and hurled it at Carmen, who ducked aside just in time. CRASH! A display case full of telescopes, astrolabes, and other old navigation tools exploded, sending glass flying like shrapnel. Carmen leaped away, grabbing a pirate cutlass sword from a display rack as she tucked and rolled past.
“No thanks,” she said, swinging the cutlass. “I prefer this.”
Tigress grabbed a long saber and blocked the swing. “Nice try,” she growled, attacking with a swing of her own.
CLANG! The swords met again and again, two fighters equally matched. Carmen almost smiled, flashing back to her days at VILE Academy, when she and Tigress had sparred this way countless times in Coach Brunt’s Combat & Weaponry class. Back when this sort of thing had seemed like innocent fun . . .
“Hey!” she blurted out as Tigress struck again—this time flinging Carmen’s blade right out of her hand!
Uh-oh. She couldn’t get distracted—not while she was dealing with Tigress. Carmen somersaulted away, kicking out as she passed and hitting her foe square in the elbow.
“Ow!” Tigress shrieked, dropping her saber, which Carmen knocked away as she rolled past.
When she looked up, Tigress was already coming at her again, this time with a pike, a long wooden pole with a blade on the end. Carmen grabbed a small round shield—from Coach Brunt’s class, she knew it was called a buckler, as in swashbuckler—and used it to fend off the blows. The whole time, she kept part of her attention on the bit of parchment sticking out of Tigress’s sleeve. One of the things she’d learned from VILE was how to pick a pocket without the mark even noticing.
Of course, that was the one final exam I never managed to pass, she reminded herself, her mind flashing briefly to the disapproving look on Shadowsan’s face that day . . .
“Yikes!” she exclaimed, barely dodging another jab of the pike.
“Red? You okay?” Player cried in her ear.
“Fine, fine,” she muttered. “Having the time of my life.”
“Talking to yourself, Black Sheep?” Tigress spat out Carmen’s former code name from crime school as if it tasted bad. “That’s a sign that you’re losing it, you know. Let me do you a favor and put you out of your misery!”
She swung the pike again. Carmen ducked and leaped forward, reaching for the edge of the parchment as Tigress whirled past.
“Now, now, now!” Tigress shrank back from Carmen’s fingers just in time. “I told you, that’s mine!”
“Only as long as you can keep it.” Carmen grabbed a wooden ship’s wheel and used it to hook Tigress’s pike, flinging it out of her hand. All Carmen needed was one good chance . . .
She dove forward, grabbing for the parchment again. This time Tigress leaped up, somersaulting over Carmen’s head and landing behind her. Carmen spun around, then paused to catch her breath and study the opposition. Tigress backed away, watching Carmen warily.
Carmen realized she had the enemy just where she wanted her—backed into a corner of the room with no doors or windows. She gathered herself to attack again . . .
“Oh, look!” Tigress’s voice suddenly went sugar-sweet. “A little doggy came to check out the kitty cat.”
Carmen looked over and saw the dog—a cute, furry little thing with floppy ears. It had just wandered in from another room, wagging its tail as if asking to join the game.
“Sorry, puppy,” Tigress sang out. “Don’t you know cats and dogs don’t get along?”
“No!” Carmen cried as Tigress grabbed an axe, flinging it at the dog.
Acting on instinct, Carmen grabbed a worn leather pirate hat and leaped forward, doing a dive roll. She shoved the hat out like a catcher’s mitt, and the axe embedded itself in the three-sided brim.
“Oof!” she grunted as she hit the floor with a thud. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tigress leaping out through the window.
The dog barked happily, rushing over to lick Carmen’s cheek as she lay there for a second breathing hard.
“Red?” Player sounded worried.
“I’m okay,” she replied wearily, reaching over to scratch the dog behind the ears. “But Tigress got away—with that parchment.”
“No biggie,” Player told her. “I got the scan. And I think I know what VILE is after . . .”
Chapter 3
VILE Academy
Professor Maelstrom strode into the gothic-meets-ultramodern room at the heart of VILE Academy known simply as the faculty lounge. The others were already there waiting. Dr. Saira Bellum was staring intently at the lines of numbers and scientific formulas on a glowing green hologram screen hanging before her in midair. Countess Cleo lounged in her high-backed chair, looking bored as she played with the sparkling diamond bracelet hanging from one slender wrist. Coach Brunt drummed her thick fingers impatiently on the table. And Shadowsan, as always, sat so still he could have been carved from stone.
“Well?” Countess Cleo spoke first. “Any word from the queen of the jungle?”
“Indeed.” A slow smile spread over Maelstrom’s gaunt face. “Tigress has the map in hand.” His smile faded slightly. “Though she did encounter a slight . . . er . . . delay.”
“What kind of delay?” As always, Coach Brunt’s words were short, to the point, and delivered with a slight Texas twang.
“A certain . . . Red Menace.” Maelstrom grimaced.
“Black Sheep,” Shadowsan pronounced. It was a statement, not a question.
Dr. Bellum looked up from her screen and frowned. “How did she find out about the treasure?”
“Never mind that,” Maelstrom said. “The important thing is that Tigress escaped with the map. And of course, we have something that Carmen Sandiego has no idea about . . .”
He cackled, fingering a round item before tucking it away again. Dr. Bellum and Countess Cleo smiled, and Coach Brunt barked out a laugh. Only Shadowsan remained grim.
“You thought she had no idea about the map,” he reminded Maelstrom. “And yet she did.”
“Good point.” Dr. Bellum nodded. “Has Tigress passed off the map to another operative yet? Safer that way, especially with Carmen Sandiego lurking around. Protocol, you know.”
“I know.” Maelstrom didn’t bother to remind her that he’d invented the protocol. “And no, she hasn’t passed it on yet. For this particular situation, I have something different in mind . . .”
Chapter 4
London, England, Several Hou
rs Later
“And you did not see anyone enter or leave ze premises?” Inspector Chase Devineaux demanded for the third time, his French accent extra-thick with frustration.
Several hours earlier he’d sneaked into his old Interpol office to retrieve his belongings. All the while, he was stewing over whether to join the mysterious crime-fighting organization known only as ACME. On the one hand, he supposed it was an honor to be asked. On the other hand, they had invited Julia Argent as well. She was his partner at Interpol, though he still wasn’t sure why he’d gotten stuck with her—she was merely a rookie, and talked far too much. If ACME valued someone like her as much as a master investigator like him, was it worth leaving Interpol to join them? It was almost an insult, really! That was why he’d stormed out after receiving the invitation, telling the mysterious Chief that he’d have to think over her offer.
Besides that, ACME had arranged the transfer from his old job before even asking him. The nerve! That alone was almost enough to make Devineaux say no. Almost. Because the truth was, he’d had little luck capturing the world’s most famous thief, Carmen Sandiego, during his time as an Interpol agent. Perhaps ACME would be able to provide him with better resources . . .
Before he could reach a decision, he’d heard a ping from his cellphone. It was a text from one of his contacts in London—one who hadn’t yet heard that Devineaux was no longer with Interpol, though he didn’t bother to update him at that moment. Because the contact was reporting a rumor that Carmen Sandiego had just struck at a collector’s home in Knightsbridge! Devineaux had dropped everything immediately and caught the first train out of France. The notorious Carmen Sandiego was the one criminal who had managed to elude him many times over. By now she was his obsession, his white whale. How lucky to receive this tip now, just when he thought she’d escaped his grasp. He was determined to bring her to justice, no matter what it took.
But once he’d reached the scene of the crime, Devineaux hadn’t been able to find out much more. The homeowner, a certain Monsieur Weston-Blather, seemed to know nothing about what had happened.
Clue by Clue Page 1