The Ambrose Deception

by Emily Ecton

  Melissa knew she sounded crazy, but crazy was the only way she knew how to be right then.

  Tanisha rolled her eyes and pulled out the chair next to Melissa. “Well, you can rule out the beach because this clue says building. I say we look up those buildings you listed and see which one has some kind of ‘contribution.’ It’s in quotes, Melissa; it’s got to be a thing. Okay? Sooner we start, the sooner it’s done. Tabi’s got ballet at the Y today, so I’m all yours.”

  Melissa sniffed and gave a weird hiccup-y sob. Then she nodded. Even if they didn’t figure it out, at least she wasn’t doing it alone. Tanisha would help her. Tanisha, her first real friend in forever. That was the one good thing to come out of this whole stupid contest. She’d have company in the insane asylum. And she knew one thing for sure: she was never watching anything Tarzan ever again.

  Bondi stood in the entryway of the Rookery Building, slowly turning as he took it all in. It was a pretty amazing place. The floor was a slick, patterned mosaic of tiles, and a wide marble stairway led up to the second floor. Gilding and elaborate metalwork lined all the walls, and an intricate iron stairway rose up from the second floor. The ceiling was latticed glass, with exposed white iron rafters.

  “Whoa,” Bondi breathed, looking around. It was too bad he was in such a rush. But he had to find the clock—then he’d be done. He could come back for a tour of this place after he’d snagged that scholarship.

  He sauntered up to a woman at the information desk. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  She blinked expectantly at him.

  “This building, does it have a famous clock somewhere? I’m interested in architecture.”

  The woman furrowed her brow, made a thinking face, and then shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know of any famous clock here. The Rookery is really more famous for the light court and its staircase. See all that natural light coming in? That’s why this is called the light court. Amazing, isn’t it?”

  Bondi nodded. It wasn’t like he was going to argue. It was a pretty awesome place. Just pretty disappointing from a clue standpoint.

  “And if you’re interested in architecture, you should really check out the stairway.”

  Bondi pointed politely to the marble stairs leading to the second floor. “That one?” Like he cared about the staircase. If it wasn’t a clock, he wasn’t interested.

  The woman shook her head. “No, see the iron one, on the next floor? That’s the Oriel staircase designed by John Root. It goes from the second floor right up to the top.”

  Bondi’s breath caught in his throat. “Let me guess. To the twelfth floor? Twelve down to two?”

  The woman smiled. “That’s right.”

  Bondi grinned. “Oh yeah, can’t miss that!” He waved a quick good-bye as he hurried across the light court to the stairs, his camera already out of his pocket.

  “Oriel staircase, here I come.”

  Melissa looked up from her notes, clutching her notebook so tightly her knuckles were white. Tanisha had been enthusiastic at first, but now she was slumped over the arm of her chair, flipping through a book like each turn of the page was physically painful.

  “Tanisha,” Melissa said, her voice cracking, “what hotel did I say Johnny Weissmuller swam in?”

  She bit her lip while Tanisha heaved herself upright and grabbed a notebook from under a pile on the table.

  She flipped it open. “It says here…the InterContinental. Why?”

  Melissa squeezed her notebook tighter. “And I said Medinah Athletic Club, too, right?”

  Tanisha nodded. “So?”

  “So according to this, they’re the same place.”

  Tanisha’s eyes gleamed. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  Tanisha threw the notebook down onto the table. “Well, shoot, we’ve got to find out about that building!”

  Inez snapped her phone shut and slapped Bondi on the back. “Good work, kid. Now here’s what we do. You get prints of those photos made, and then we have a meeting with the big boss, Mr. Smith. I don’t want to jinx things, but it looks like you’ve done it.”

  Bondi didn’t answer. He was already halfway down the block to the drugstore.

  Melissa and Tanisha burst out of the building with such force that the door smacked into the brick wall and bounced back. It would’ve hit Melissa in the face if she and Tanisha hadn’t already leaped down the steps and made it to the sidewalk by the time it whacked back into place.

  “Dimitri!” Melissa yelled, out of breath. “We did it! It’s the InterContinental Hotel!”

  Dimitri frowned. “What’s the InterContinental Hotel?”

  “Medinah Athletic Club!” Tanisha said, leaning over and pressing the stitch in her side. They’d raced the entire length of the school to get to where Dimitri was parked.

  “They’re the same building,” Melissa said.

  “And that’s where Johnny Weissmuller used to swim, in the pool there,” Tanisha said.

  “And he was Tarzan,” Melissa explained, bobbing on the balls of her feet as Dimitri looked from her to Tanisha like he was watching a Ping-Pong game.

  “And that’s what the clue said: Tarzan. And that part where it says freeze? At the beginning?”

  “The InterContinental Hotel has these three friezes on its sides, way up, a couple of stories up.” Melissa frowned. “How many?”

  Tanisha rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember. But a lot. Eight, maybe?”

  “I thought twelve.”

  “Whatever. But anyway, Dimitri, the friezes have names.”

  “And one of them is called Contribution!” Melissa finished, folding her arms and looking at Dimitri triumphantly. He blinked at her with a mournful expression on his face.

  Melissa didn’t like that expression. She unzipped her book bag to get the clue out. Maybe if he read it. “See, the clue says—”

  “Melissa,” Dimitri said softly.

  She really didn’t like that tone. “What?”

  “The boy, Bondi. He solved his third clue.”

  Melissa went cold. She glanced at Tanisha and then quickly turned away. Tanisha looked like she was going to barf, and Melissa knew she probably looked worse. She sure felt worse, like she’d been smacked in the face. She swallowed hard. “So what does that mean? Is he the winner? Am I too late?”

  Dimitri gave a helpless shrug. “Is not for me to say. But his meeting with Mr. Smith”—he consulted his watch—“is now.”

  Bondi stood in front of the desk, trying to hang loose while Mr. Smith stared at him, his eyes narrowed and his fingers steepled. Bondi wasn’t going to let this Smith guy get under his skin, though, not when he was about to be crowned the big winner.

  Mr. Smith finally sniffed. “Butler tells me you think you have figured out the clues.”

  Bondi nodded. “That’s right. I know I did. I solved them and took the pictures, just like you wanted.”

  Mr. Smith nodded. “So you say. We shall see. Now.” He pulled out the first slip of paper and started to read: “Eli should’ve called this bubbler ‘Spitty Geese with Fish Huggers.’ And the solution?”

  Bondi grinned. “Buckingham Fountain, most famous fountain in Chicago.”

  Mr. Smith nodded and put the paper down. He picked up the second slip and read: “Help your bird friends get Wright to the Root of the matter as you spiral down from twelve to two.”

  “It’s the Rookery Building on South LaSalle. The bird friends part is referring to the name of the building, and the Oriel staircase there is famous—it goes from the second floor to the twelfth. Wright and Root designed the building and the lobby.”

  Mr. Smith nodded again. “Good. And finally, Surrounded by glass, you’ll find the world at your feet?”

  “The Skydeck Ledge at the Sears—sorry—Willis Tower.”

  Mr. Smith nodded, his eyes gleaming. “Very good. Very good indeed.”

  Bondi’s grin widened, and he felt the tension melting away. He didn’t know why he’d bee
n so worried about losing. “So I got them right?”

  “Yes, yes, good work. Very good. And you have photos?” Mr. Smith held out his hand.

  Bondi stepped forward and handed him the photos, smiling a little at the one of him lying on the floor of the Skydeck. Sure, it was a little silly, but silly never hurt anybody. Besides, it wasn’t like Mr. Smith would care.

  But Mr. Smith frowned and his face turned three shades darker. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you in these photos?”

  Bondi shrugged in what he hoped was an unconcerned way. But to be honest, he was getting a little concerned. “You didn’t say we shouldn’t be in the pictures. And I thought you’d want evidence that I was there.”

  Mr. Smith bristled. “I do not care if you were there.” He threw the photos at Bondi. “Not acceptable. Get me new photos, or you forfeit the game.”

  “But…what? Forfeit? Are you serious?”

  “Redo the photos or be disqualified. One of the other children will be declared the winner.” The gleam in Mr. Smith’s eyes had taken on a tinge of crazy.

  Bondi gathered the photos from the floor and stared down at them. Every muscle in his body wanted to fling them back at Mr. Smith, but…forfeit. He couldn’t forfeit. Not when he should be the winner. He clenched his jaw instead. “But…fine. Okay, fine. I’ll be back.”

  Bondi took the camera that Butler handed him and hurried out of the office without a backwards glance.

  “Ridiculous so-and-so, thinking he’s all that,” Bondi muttered under his breath. While he waited for the elevator, he squatted down and shuffled through the other photos in the drugstore envelope. By the time he’d gotten through half of them, he’d started to feel better. It wasn’t quite that bad. He’d gotten one shot of the Skydeck by itself. Sure, it was a picture he’d taken by mistake when he was pulling the camera out of his pocket, but it counted. And there was a shot he’d taken on the staircase at the Rookery—except for what looked like the tip of his thumb, you couldn’t see him at all.

  It was really just the fountain that was the problem. He was in every single one of those photos, grinning like an idiot.

  Bondi saved the two good shots in the envelope and stuffed the rest into his messenger bag. By the time he got downstairs to Inez, he knew what he had to do.

  When Inez saw his face, she ground out her cigarette and hopped into the car. She didn’t know what had happened, but she could tell it wasn’t good.

  “Where to?”

  “Fountain, Inez. We’ve got to get one last shot.”

  Inez peeled out of the parking space and swerved into the street as Bondi slammed the door. “I’ll get you there, kid,” she muttered grimly. It was going to be close.

  “See? Eight stories.” Tanisha stood on Michigan Avenue pointing up at the InterContinental Hotel building.

  “Okay, you’re right.” Melissa aimed the camera at the frieze on the south wall. “It’s those Sumerian warriors that are on the twelfth. I knew something was.” The InterContinental Hotel had three Assyrian friezes on its facade: one called Wisdom on the west wall, Consecration on the north wall, and Contribution, guarded overhead by carvings of three Sumerian warriors, on the south wall. The friezes depicted the history of the building, from the funding of the building, aka the presentation of riches, in Contribution, to its construction in Wisdom, and the final dedication of the building, aka the anointing, in Consecration.

  Melissa hesitated. “South, right? This one on the south wall is the right one?” The last thing she wanted to do was take a photo of the wrong stupid frieze.

  Tanisha rolled her eyes. “Yes. South, the one with the horses that looks like a parade. You’ve only asked me like a million times.”

  “I know,” Melissa muttered, taking the picture. She didn’t even know why she was bothering. That Bondi kid had already won, according to Dimitri. And with Tanisha right here, she couldn’t even pretend that she hadn’t had help. But she’d figured out the three answers, so she was darn well going to finish. Maybe Mr. Smith would want to meet with her and maybe he wouldn’t. But at least she’d tried.

  She finished taking the last photo and then turned to Dimitri. “All done.”

  He smiled sadly. “I can call Mr. Smith?”

  Melissa shrugged. “Sure. I can meet with him tomorrow, if there’s still anything to meet about.”

  Tanisha smacked her on the arm. “Are you crazy? Meet him today! There’s a one-hour photo place just down the block! Probably wouldn’t even take that long.”

  Melissa shook her head. Liam was still at his friend’s house, but he’d be getting back any minute. It wasn’t safe for him to be home alone. And besides, she’d like to have one more night to imagine she could possibly win. Mr. Smith could tell her she’d lost tomorrow.

  “Tomorrow’s fine,” she said. “He probably wouldn’t want to meet this late, anyway.”

  Tanisha looked at her for a long minute and then shrugged. “Sure. Tomorrow.”

  Wilf sprawled in the back of the car as Frank drove him home. He’d seen every animal in the zoo, some twice, even. He thought he had a good, friendly relationship started with one of the monkeys. And he’d had popcorn and cotton candy—although he’d paced himself a little more carefully this time.

  Frank cleared his throat. “So that Bondi kid’s solved all his clues, you know.”

  Wilf nodded. Frank had told him outside the lion house, and then again when they were looking at the boa constrictor. He didn’t know why Frank was bringing it up again. It’s not like Wilf wanted to talk about it. What was there to talk about? The Bondi kid won. Goody for him.

  “Yeah, you said.” Wilf pressed his forehead to the glass and looked out.

  Frank drove in silence for a minute. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Wilf breathed on the window and drew a frowny face in the condensation. “So…what? No more doing stuff, is that it? Or am I supposed to keep working on my clues, even though there’s no point?”

  Frank sighed. “I’m not sure. I’ll find out.”

  Wilf wiped away his frowny face and stared out of the window. It had been good while it lasted, but with his track record, he’d always known it wouldn’t last long. He had a knack for messing things up. It wasn’t like he’d ever had a real shot at the money.

  The only bad part was Frank. It was too bad that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with him anymore. He was pretty cool, for a grown-up. And Wilf didn’t think even his dad would’ve eaten as many hot dogs as Frank did. But now that it was all over, Frank would move on to some new assignment, and that would be that.

  Wilf peered out of the window and then sat bolt upright. “Frank! Stop!”

  Frank hit the brakes and pulled over, almost getting rear ended in the process.

  “Geez, Wilf! What?”

  He pointed out the window. They were across the street from an ancient-looking mansion made of pinkish brown stone, so big it took up half the block. “See that house there?”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “That’s the Ambrose place, right? That old millionaire guy who died? Well, I heard it’s haunted. They say his ghost haunts the house, and you can see lights and stuff moving around inside even though it’s supposed to be totally empty. Freaky, huh?”

  Frank sighed. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  Wilf nodded. “It’s true. So it’s haunted, right? It’s a haunted house.” He leaned forward and peered at Frank around the headrest. “Want to sneak in? Maybe see the ghost? We could be ghost hunters! It would be really fun.”

  Frank shook his head. “No, Wilf. That’s not a good idea.”

  Wilf bounced on the seat. Ghost hunting wasn’t on his list, but it should’ve been. It was his best idea ever. “No, it’s awesome. Because, Frank, this could be it! After tonight, there’s no more anything. That kid won, so this is our last chance to do anything fun. Please, Frank?” Wilf held his breath. He’d never minded hanging out by himself before—he was used to it, with his d
ad always away and his mom having to work so much. But he’d never realized how much more fun it was to have someone to do things with.

  Frank just shook his head again. “No, Wilf.” He put the car back in drive. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Wilf threw himself against the backseat so hard he bounced a little. Frank was such a loser. Wilf didn’t care if he never saw him again. Sure, the scholarship stuff had seemed fun once, but now he was glad the whole thing was over. It had all just been a stupid waste of time.

  Bondi hopped out of the car and ran up to Buckingham Fountain, camera ready to go. The shots he’d gotten before were all silly, with him making goofy faces and messing around, but there’d be no messing around this time. He just needed one good shot of a spitty fish hugger or goose. Whichever one he saw first, that’s what he’d take, and then he’d be out of there.

  Bondi leaned in for a close-up of one of the fish spitting at the edge of the fountain, and then stopped. He looked through the camera lens, and after a few minutes of hesitation, he lowered the camera without taking the shot.

  Those things spitting water in the corner weren’t fish at all. They were sea horses or something. Sea serpents, maybe, if you were pushing it. But definitely not fish, and now that he looked, they weren’t hugging anything.

  Bondi walked slowly around the edge of the fountain, examining it carefully from every angle. All he needed was one clear shot of a goose or fish. The cold feeling that had started creeping over his body had enveloped him completely by the time he got back to his original sea horse. Bondi clutched the short fence around the fountain, a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.