by Dan Poblocki
“She made fun of my coat at the town library once,” said Sylvester, as if he expected everyone to reach out and give him a hug. But no one did. “I almost cried,” he added to no avail. He lay down on the grass with a huff.
“Faina’s not very nice to Greg either,” said Rosie. “Once, she lobbed a spitball into his juice from across the cafeteria. Another time, she took the specimen jars off the shelves in the back of their science classroom and put them all over his desk. The jars are filled with all sorts of nasty-looking dead things soaking in preservative. Greg really didn’t want to have to touch the jars, but he also didn’t want to admit that Faina was bullying him. So he took the blame, and the teacher forced him to put them back on the shelf. The whole class watched as he walked back and forth, his arms full of creepy biological specimens. He said that everyone was so freaked out by what was inside the jars, no one has touched them since.”
“I’ll bet Faina got a kick out of that,” said Sylvester.
“I’ll bet you’re right,” said Rosie. “But when her mom took over their science class, everyone was wondering if Faina would start being nice. And she seemed to be better … for a little while. Then, during an outdoor science experiment, Faina turned all diva and said she needed to use the restroom. After Faina moaned and groaned for fifteen minutes, her mom finally relented.
“Unfortunately, when the rest of the students returned to class, they found that someone had gone through their bags. Some of them were missing valuables. Cash, keys, even some jewelry.”
“So Faina got caught stealing?” asked Sylvester.
“Well … no,” said Rosie. “The students insisted that the school security guards search Faina. Mrs. Chelzwert wasn’t happy about her daughter being searched, but she seemed to understand that her daughter could have been the culprit. She had been inside during the burglary, after all. But the security guards didn’t find anything in Faina’s pockets or her bag or her locker. They also checked the rest of Greg’s classmates’ lockers. But they didn’t locate any of the missing valuables.”
“If it wasn’t Faina, who did it?” asked Viola.
Rosie smiled mischievously. “I think all of our detective work must be rubbing off on my family.”
“What do you mean?” asked Woodrow.
“Greg went into science class the next morning and noticed something was amiss,” said Rosie. “Something was different in the room. And it was something that surprised him. Do you know what he noticed?”
“The specimen jars?” asked Viola. Rosie nodded, asking her to continue. “You said earlier that after Greg returned the specimens to the shelves, no one had touched them again. He must have gone into the room and noticed that the jars were out of place or something.”
“Right,” said Rosie. “They were out of place. And he would know, considering how much time he’d spent putting them on the shelves.
“Next he took a closer look. There was nothing hidden behind the jars. The specimens were still inside them. But one jar in particular had something … extra. Can you guess what it was?”
“It had to have been one of the missing valuables,” said Woodrow.
“Yup,” said Rosie. “It was a quarter, sitting right next to a carefully preserved tapeworm. He opened the jar to fish it out, and a horrific stench blasted his nose. I guess all that preservative is pretty rank.”
“Gross!” said Sylvester, rubbing at his legs as if worms were attacking him.
“But how did the quarter get inside the specimen jar?” asked Woodrow. “I mean, I guess the thief put it there, but why?”
“Let’s think this out,” said Viola. “Suppose the thief knew that if she stole items from her classmates, she’d get searched. She’d need a place to hide the goods until it was safe to collect them again. Faina could have come inside from the science experiment, gone through everyone’s stuff, and then hid whatever she wanted to take in a spot she knew no one would ever look. The specimen jars!”
“Whoa!” said Woodrow. “That girl has got some guts.”
“Later,” Viola continued, “when she thought all eyes were off her again, she’d return to the classroom and take what she’d planted. She must have forgotten to take that one last coin.”
“Very good,” said Rosie. “Except for one big problem. Greg said the teacher locks the door at the end of every day. And Greg was the first one to arrive the next morning. So Faina wouldn’t have had access back into the room. She certainly wouldn’t have had another chance to be there alone.”
“She seems pretty sneaky,” said Sylvester. “Maybe she somehow stole the key from her mom.”
“Good guess,” said Rosie. “Greg was pretty sure that Faina was the one who’d put the items in the specimen jars. And since her mom had the key to the classroom, it might have been possible for Faina to get her hands on it. But something clued him in that she was not working alone.”
“Not alone?” said Woodrow. “Who else would have been helping her?”
“The answer would be whoever had the key,” said Viola, squinting her eyes.
“You think Mrs. Chelzwert was Faina’s accomplice?” said Sylvester. “No way. A teacher would never do something like that.”
“But Greg had proof that she did do something like that,” said Rosie. “Do you know what was his final clue?”
Viola, Sylvester, and Woodrow sat there thinking, almost stumped. Finally, Sylvester raised his head. “Mrs. Chelzwert stunk,” he said.
“Sylvester!” said Viola. “You don’t have to be rude.”
“I’m not being rude,” said Sylvester. “That must have been Greg’s final clue.” Rosie smiled and nodded for him to continue. “Rosie said that when he’d opened the tapeworm jar, he noticed a horrible stench. Whoever had retrieved the items from the jars probably got some of that preservative fluid on herself. Hence, she’s a stinker. If Greg smelled the same aroma on his substitute teacher, he would have guessed that she was the one who’d helped Faina get the stolen objects out of the science room. She probably just shoved the objects in her purse after class, locked the science room door, and walked out of the school.”
Rosie nodded again. “According to Greg, her purse still smelled that morning. She put the wet, stinky dollar bills right into her wallet!”
“Gosh,” said Woodrow. “No wonder all the Chelzwert kids seem so strange. Their parents are probably career criminals.”
“Makes you feel grateful for the nice teachers we’ve ended up with this year,” said Viola. “They could have been so much worse!”
“What’s Greg going to do?” asked Woodrow.
“He’s already told the high school principal,” said Rosie. “They’re investigating.”
“Ha,” Sylvester exclaimed. “Now they’re gonna have to get a substitute for the substitute!”
The clock in front of the library struck eight, the chimes ringing out a slow indication that the day was winding down. Each of the four stood up and said good-bye, reluctantly heading toward their own houses, yet certain that they’d have a reason to find one another at the Four Corners soon enough. They felt lucky. Moon Hollow was that kind of town.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dan Poblocki is the author of The Stone Child and The Nightmarys. Like many writers, he’s had a long list of strange jobs. Dan has traveled New Jersey as a bathing suit salesman, played the role of Ichabod Crane in a national tour of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, wrangled the audience for Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, sold snacks at The Lion King’s theater on Broadway, recommended books at Barnes & Noble, answered phones for Columbia University, and done research at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. He has never been a detective though, and after writing the Mysterious Four books, he thinks he might just give it a try.
Visit the author at www.danpoblocki.com.
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Copyright © 2011 by Dan Poblocki
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First printing, October 2011
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E-ISBN 978-0-545-38820-7