The Case of the Disappearing Dinosaur

by James Preller

  “Let’s see … a man came in and picked up two chocolate cream pies. Then an older woman, Mrs. Alessi, left with two dozen strawberry cupcakes.”

  “Yum,” Joey moaned. “I love strawberry cupcakes.”

  “Anyone else?” I prodded.

  “Hmmmm,” the tall girl mused. “Yes, yes, here it is. Mrs. Maloney bought a birthday cake for her son Charlie. I remember the name because I did the lettering myself.”

  “Charlie Maloney!” Mila exclaimed. “That’s Bigs! Of course. His birthday party is tomorrow afternoon. That ties in with the note we found in the purse! His mom must have dropped it this morning when she picked up the cake.”

  I thanked the nice girl behind the counter, grunted at the mean one, and copied down the phone number from the receipt. Then I asked if I could borrow one of their phones. “It’s business,” I explained.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Maloney rushed into the store. She had a toddler at her feet and another one in her arms. What a racket. Carrying around a screaming police siren might have been quieter. And drier. The kids looked like identical twins. Probably because they were. I’d met them before at Bigs Maloney’s house. Larry and Harry.

  Poor Mrs. Maloney looked about as calm as a Siamese cat at a dog show. She was just the type to drop a purse and not notice.

  “Jigsaw!” she exclaimed when she saw us. “Thank you so much for calling. What an honest young man!”

  “Don’t thank me,” I said. “It was these two. You know Joey Pignattano and Ralphie Jordan. They’re the heroes who found your purse.”

  Mrs. Maloney smiled at them. Suddenly, she noticed Mila for the first time. “Oh, hello, Mila! I guess we’ll be seeing you at the party tomorrow, too?”

  Mila smiled. “Yep, we’ll all be there. Bigs invited everyone from Ms. Gleason’s class—even the girls.”

  Just then, one of the twins sprang a leak or something. A puddle formed on the floor. On cue, the twin in Mrs. Maloney’s arms started to wail. “Wah-wah-wah-waaaaaaaaaaah!”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” groaned Mrs. Maloney. “What a day. Still, I’m so grateful to you children. How can I possibly thank you?”

  Joey offered a suggestion.

  And like most of Joey’s ideas, it involved food.

  Two minutes later, Mrs. Maloney drove off in her car. Mila and I made sure the coin purse was safely tucked into her pocketbook.

  Joey, Ralphie, Mila, and I went outside and sat under an old willow tree. The grass was nice and dry beneath it. Each of us bit into our very own black-and-white cookie.

  “Awesome!” Joey exclaimed.

  And he was right.

  It was our reward. Thanks to Mrs. Maloney.

  We all chewed happily. In silence. Enjoying every bite. Because that’s the way the black-and-white cookie crumbles.

  It pays to be honest. And that’s something that guys like Bobby Solofsky would never understand. Happily eating under the tree, I thought my detective work was done for the weekend. But I didn’t realize that another case awaited us. It involved a dinosaur. A birthday party. And a magic trick that went very, very wrong.

  Chapter

  6

  Go, Rags, Go!

  Mila and I have been sending secret messages to each other since dinosaurs ruled the earth. Okay, maybe not that long. But it has been a while. Codes are the best way for detectives to talk to each other—and it’s fun, too. Besides, like my favorite baseball team, the New York Mets, we needed the practice.

  After doing the dishes that night, I went into my bedroom with my trusty dog, Rags. I figure Rags liked to think that he was helping on a case in some way. Or maybe he just liked sleeping on my soft, thick rug.

  I decided to try an IPPY Code. It was simple. All you had to do was add the letters IP after every consonant in each word. So the word DOG becomes DIPOGIP and BIGS becomes BIPIGIPSIP.

  I wrote:

  I BIPOUGIPHIPTIP BIPIGIPSIP A DIPINIPOSIPAURIP PIPUZIPZIPLIPE.

  WIPHIPATIP DIPIDIP YIPOU GIPETIP HIPIMIP?

  Now no one could read it. Except for Mila. She already knew about IPPY codes. To decode it, all Mila had to do was cross out all the IP letters.

  I called Mila on the phone. “Don’t talk,” I warned. “Enemies may be listening. Just stand by your front door, wave a doggy snack, and call Rags. Got it?”

  Mila coughed three times. That was our signal. She understood. I hung up the phone and taped the message inside Rags’s collar. “Okay, Ragsy,” I said. “Time to do your stuff.”

  Mila lived down the block—and Rags knew the way by heart. Or, I guess, by nose. I opened the front door and whispered to Rags, “Go, boy. Find Mila.”

  Rags looked at me, wondering why I wasn’t coming with him. Why was he standing outside? Why was his nose always wet and cold?

  “Rags! Raaaaags! I’ve got a treat for you!” Mila’s voice threaded through the distance.

  Rags’s keen ears lifted. He suddenly understood the meaning of life. It was all about food, glorious food! Off he raced, chasing the promise of doggy snacks, hungry as a sumo wrestler at a free buffet.

  Good old Rags. Sure, maybe Shaggy had Scooby-Doo. But I had my own flea-bitten hairball to help with detective work.

  Rags. A detective’s best friend.

  Chapter

  7

  Meet Buster

  Mila, Ralphie, Joey, and I piled into our minivan. We were late for Bigs Maloney’s birthday party. Joey kept licking his lips and whispering, “I want cake, I want cake.”

  “Shhh, Joey,” Mila hushed. “There’s more to a party than eating cake.”

  “I know,” Joey said. “But I can’t stop thinking about cake ever since we went to Grandma’s Bakery yesterday.”

  “Buckle up,” my dad urged. “Let’s get a move on. I’ve got to get back to take Daniel and Nicholas to soccer practice. Then I’ve got to drive Hillary to the Steamer Ten Theater.” He sighed. “I feel like I spend half my life shuttling you kids to practices and dentist appointments and birthday parties. One of these days I’m going to trade in this minivan and get myself a little red sports car.”

  I’d heard that speech a million times before. Except my dad usually described the goggles and long white scarf he’d wear. But that’s grown-ups for you. They’re always complaining about something, usually us kids. It’s like they forget they used to be short once, too.

  Go figure.

  At the front door of the Maloneys’ house, we heard crying and screaming and the yip-yip-yapping of a small puppy. “I didn’t know Bigs had a dog,” Mila said.

  The door swung open and a small brown dog leaped at our throats. Yip-yip-yip it yapped, scratching at Ralphie’s pant leg. “Down, Buster, down, boy!” Bigs commanded.

  Meanwhile Buster, the dog, kept bouncing up and down like a fluffy basketball. Licking, yipping, yapping.

  “Somebody gave that dog too much coffee,” Ralphie joked.

  “He’s adorable!” Mila gushed. She bent down to pet the puppy, only to get licked like a lollipop. “I’ve been slimed,” Mila moaned.

  Bigs introduced us. “This is Buster. We just got him yesterday. He’s my birthday present.”

  Mrs. Maloney appeared behind Bigs. As usual, she had a baby in her arms. The other twin toddled near her feet, gurgling and laughing at Buster’s antics. “Yes, a new dog,” Mrs. Maloney said, looking tired and frazzled. “We didn’t think life was crazy enough already.”

  I laughed. “I’ve got three brothers and a sister … and a big dog,” I told her. “Our house gets pretty noisy sometimes. My dad calls it a joyful racket. Except I’m not sure he always thinks it’s so joyful.”

  “Five kids! That does sound like a racket,” Mrs. Maloney said. With a weary grunt, she heaved a baby from one arm to the other. “You’ve already met the twins. This is Larry. And that’s Harry,” she added, eyes toward the ground. “He’s the one sucking on Jigsaw’s sneakers.”

  Yeesh. What a party. First dog slime, then baby slobber, and we h
adn’t even gotten past the front door. “Okay, Larry. No more eating my sneakie-weakies,” I cooed.

  “No, Jigsaw. That’s Larry,” Mila said, pointing at the baby in Mrs. Maloney’s arms. “The one washing your shoes with drool is Harry.”

  That’s the problem with twins. They’d be okay, I guess, except they look alike. “Do you ever get them mixed up?” I asked Mrs. Maloney.

  “I hope not!” Mrs. Maloney laughed. “Actually, there’s an easy way to tell the difference. Larry has a freckle on his nose. Harry doesn’t. But please, come on in. You can put your presents on the table. Everyone is out in the backyard. Mr. Maloney is getting ready to begin the water-balloon toss as we speak.”

  “Great!” We raced through the house and into the backyard, screaming at the top of our lungs.

  Chapter

  8

  The Magic Show

  I always said that Bigs Maloney was built like a soda machine. But Bigs was nothing compared to his father. Mr. Maloney looked like the truck that delivered the soda machines. He was bigger than big. He was gigantic.

  Mr. Maloney filled water balloons from a garden hose. A group of kids swarmed around him, like gnats on a gorilla. “What does your father do for a living?” I whispered to Bigs. “Climb the Empire State Building and swat down planes?”

  Bigs laughed. “No, Jigsaw. That’s King Kong.”

  “So sue me,” I answered with a shrug. “Maybe I got them confused.”

  “Actually, I’m a florist,” Mr. Maloney’s deep voice answered.

  “A florist,” I murmured. “You look like you could play linebacker for the Chicago Bears.”

  Mr. Maloney laughed, like he’d heard that kind of comment before. “I played a little ball back in my day,” he replied. “But now I work with flowers mostly. Anyway, that’s about it for these water balloons. Let the games begin!”

  For the next half hour, we played water-balloon toss, ran egg-on-a-spoon relay races, and even had a giant tug-of-war. All the kids from Ms. Gleason’s class were there. Bigs Maloney’s twin brothers, Harry and Larry, were crawling all over the place. I saw them almost get stepped on about twelve times. Even Buster got into the action, chewing on the garden hose.

  “He chews on everything,” Mr. Maloney said. “Typical Labrador. If you don’t keep an eye on them, they’ll chew your house to pieces.”

  Lucy Hiller suddenly cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Danika the Great will now amaze you with her magical talents. Please follow me into the basement. Our show is about to begin!”

  We crammed into the basement.

  I got bumped from behind. I turned and saw Bobby Solofsky.

  “Whoops,” he said. “My elbow must have slipped.”

  We exchanged dirty looks and sat down.

  Lucy stood behind a desk. A cloth covered it and draped to the floor. Everyone cheered when Danika took the stage to the thump-thump-wacka-wacka-THUMP of loud music.

  I have to admit it. Danika did a great job. She performed the mind-reading trick with the cup again. But this time I figured it out. I noticed that Lucy changed the direction of the cup’s handle each time she covered a new coin. It was a secret signal, I realized. Like a code. If the handle pointed to Danika’s left, it was a penny. If it faced away from Danika, then it was a nickel. To the right, a dime. And facing Danika meant a quarter. Like this:

  I had to cheer. They sure had everyone else fooled.

  Danika did some card tricks. Next she took a clear plastic cup of water and put a piece of paper on it. Then she turned it upside down—and the water didn’t spill out!

  Mila whispered, “My father taught me that one. It’s done with a little hole near the bottom of the glass. Danika covers the hole with her finger and the water can’t fall out.”

  I didn’t argue with her.

  “I will now levitate a human being,” Danika said.

  “What’s levitate?” Joey asked.

  “And what’s a human bean?” Stringbean Noonan wondered.

  Danika rubbed her eyes, like she felt a headache coming on. “I mean, I’ll make my assistant, Lucy, float in midair,” Danika explained.

  Danika stood in front of the table. She asked Lucy to lie on the floor on her back. Danika took a large sheet and covered Lucy. It wasn’t easy, because Harry (or was it Larry?) kept getting in the way. Meanwhile, Buster sniffed underneath the table. Danika waved a wand and said some magical mumbo-jumbo.

  We all gasped when Lucy and the sheet rose about a foot into the air.

  “Presto-finito,” Danika cried out.

  Lucy slowly lowered to the floor.

  The room went wild with cheers and applause.

  “That’s easy,” Bobby Solofsky barked. “Lucy turned and got on her stomach right when Danika covered her with the sheet. She didn’t float in the air. Lucy did a push-up!”

  Danika stared angrily at Bobby. Then she said, “For my final trick, I will make something disappear.” She glanced around the room and saw Bigs Maloney’s dinosaur display. She took a plastic stegosaurus and held it up for all to see. Danika slowly sat behind the table. “And now,” she whispered, pausing for effect, “my greatest trick of all.…”

  Chapter

  9

  Gone!

  I leaned forward and watched closely. I wanted to figure out another one of Danika’s tricks. From her seat behind the table, Danika took a paper napkin and tried to wrap it around the dinosaur. But the paper kept ripping.

  “Darn, this one is too big,” Danika said. Lucy handed her a smaller stuffed dinosaur.

  “Wait!” Bigs cried. “That’s Spike, my favorite dinosaur. Don’t make him disappear!”

  Danika smiled. “Don’t worry, Bigs. I’ll make Spike reappear again.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise,” Danika replied.

  This time, Danika had no problem covering it with a napkin. She held it up for all to see. A puzzled look crossed her face, and she glanced under the table. “Hello, down there,” she cooed. Danika smiled. “One of the babies is chewing on my shoe,” she told us with a laugh.

  Suddenly, whap, whap, Danika slapped the paper napkin and the dinosaur on the table twice. She raised her hand to slap it down a third time … thud. The napkin flattened on the table.

  The dinosaur was gone!

  “Now, to make it reappear…” Danika announced. I noticed one of her shoulders droop slightly, like maybe she was reaching under the table for something. “Er, um, just a second,” Danika mumbled.

  Lucy saw that Danika was in trouble and turned on the music again. Boom-boom, whacka-boom, the speakers throbbed. A few more moments crawled by. Danika’s face turned red. “I’m having a little problem,” she admitted.

  “Where’s Spike?” Bigs demanded.

  “He’s, um…” Danika bent over to look underneath the table. Danika sat back up. “Spike has, er, disappeared.”

  “We already know that,” Bobby Solofsky sneered.

  “Yeah, bring him back,” Bigs demanded.

  “You don’t get it, Bigs,” Danika confessed. “Spike has really disappeared.”

  A wave of nervous laughter rolled through the room. Was this part of the act?

  “What a rotten trick!” scowled Solofsky.

  I glanced at Mila, who nodded toward Bigs. He seemed upset. I saw his lower lip tremble. “It’s not funny,” Bigs charged. “That’s my favorite dinosaur, and you promised you’d bring him back.”

  Danika’s face turned from red to chalk white. “I’m not trying to be funny,” she said. “Somebody, somehow, must have stolen Spike. I’m telling you, Bigs, I don’t have your dinosaur!”

  Chapter

  10

  The Scene of the Crime

  Everyone was stunned. Voices and shouts filled the room. I stood and pointed at Danika, “Don’t touch a thing, Danika. No one leaves this room,” I commanded.

  Mila and I walked up to Danika. Lucy stood by her side. “Are
you telling the truth?” I whispered.

  Danika’s eyes widened. She looked directly into mine. “Yes, Jigsaw. Help me, please. I honestly don’t know what happened to the dinosaur.”

  “We get a dollar a day,” I said.

  “In advance,” Mila added.

  Danika nodded. “Sure, sure, anything. Just get me out of this mess.” She glanced toward Bigs, then handed me a dollar bill. It disappeared into my pocket. Neat trick, huh?

  “I’ll interview the witnesses,” Mila said.

  I nodded. “Start with Solofsky. Whenever there’s trouble, he’s usually in the middle of it. Here, take my journal. But first, let me do one thing.” I turned to a clean page and wrote:

  CASE: The Disappearing Dinosaur

  CLIENT: Danika Starling

  Mila got everyone to stay seated. One by one, she asked them questions. Meanwhile, I talked to Danika and Lucy. “You were looking under the table,” I said. “Are you sure the dinosaur isn’t there?”

  “See for yourself,” Danika answered. We lifted up the tablecloth. There was an empty shoe box under the desk, padded with a soft cloth, and not much else. Besides Buster, of course, who was busily chewing on a desk leg.

  “Tell me exactly how this trick was supposed to work,” I asked Danika.

  “No way!” Lucy protested. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

  I crossed my arms. “Get real, Lucy,” I said. “We have to solve this mystery. I need to know all the facts.”

  Lucy locked eyes with Danika. Together, in silence, they seemed to decide something. “It’s like this…” Danika began.

  The trick was simple, actually. It began when Danika sat behind the desk. When she folded the napkin over the dinosaur, Danika made sure to leave the bottom uncovered. Then she let the dinosaur slip into her lap. The trick was that the paper napkin still kept the shape of the dinosaur. No one noticed that it was missing.