The Ambrose Deception

by Emily Ecton

  Bondi: MEETING NOW! URGENT URGENT URGENT!

  Melissa: No kidding. We’ve been waiting for you FOREVER.

  Wilf: Any news?

  Bondi: OH, THERE’S NEWS. BIG NEWS.

  “So let me get this straight. There’s no scholarship. We’re not competing for ten thousand dollars. We’re competing for millions of dollars?” Melissa wondered if she should pinch herself. This sure didn’t seem like real life. She looked over at the doughnut counter. With a million dollars, she could buy them all. She could probably buy the whole coffee shop.

  “Yep.” Bondi nodded enthusiastically.

  Melissa stared at him. Bondi didn’t seem quite real, either, nodding like a bobblehead like that.

  “And let me get this straight. We’re not competing against each other. We’re competing against Smith and his sister? Enoch Ambrose’s kids?”

  Bobblehead Bondi nodded again.

  Melissa stared at him. “You must’ve heard wrong.”

  “No, it’s right! It’s totally right. If we can solve the clues, we inherit. We just need to figure out our invitations. Where we’re supposed to go, and when. That’s it.”

  “Oh, is that it? Well, great,” Melissa said. “What a cinch.” She snorted, then frowned. She didn’t usually snort in dreams. But this couldn’t be real. Could it?

  She turned and stared at Wilf, who was just sitting like a lump staring at them both. Melissa stuck out her arm. “Wilf? Would you do me a favor?”

  He looked down at her arm and seemed to understand. “You sure?”

  “Please.”

  Wilf reached out and pinched her.

  Melissa winced. “Yep, that hurt.”

  Wilf dug a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Now you do me a favor. Here.”

  Melissa took it. It was his invitation.

  Wilf pointed at it. “You’d better hang on to it. ’Cause I’ll lose it. You know I will.”

  Melissa put the card in her book bag. Wilf would totally lose it.

  “If this was a dream, I wouldn’t,” Wilf said, watching as she zipped the bag closed. “But this is real life. Right?”

  Melissa nodded again. The pinch had proved that. “Real life. Right.”

  Wilf slapped his hands together and rubbed them quickly in a perfect imitation of Smith. Then his face broke into a grin.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Who wants to win a million dollars?”

  Bondi’s invitation:

  Your attendance is requested

  3 P.M., at the Taj Mahal.

  Melissa’s invitation:

  Your attendance is requested

  This Monday, Clementine Hall,

  Pope’s Residence.

  Wilf’s invitation:

  Your attendance is requested

  24th Floor of the Alamo.

  “Okay, so obviously the meeting isn’t in India and Italy and Texas at the same time.” Melissa chewed on her pencil thoughtfully.

  “Obviously,” Bondi said, trying not to look at her pencil. It was grossing him out.

  “So we split up? We have debit cards,” Wilf said. He hadn’t used his card in days, and it just felt wrong, like he was wasting free money. “Do they sell airline tickets to kids?”

  “That doesn’t sound right,” Bondi said.

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to go to these places at all. I think they’re just hints.” Melissa put down her pencil. It made a spit mark on her notebook paper. “We just need to figure them out.”

  “Then we’ll figure them out. So, Pope’s Residence. A church in Chicago? An Indian church? Something like that?” Wilf shook his head. It sounded stupid as soon as he said it.

  “Don’t forget the Alamo,” Bondi said.

  “Right, the Alamo. So an Indian-Texan Catholic church? Is there one of those?” Wilf didn’t think there was. He felt like he would’ve heard about something like that.

  “Oh, please. For real?” Melissa scoffed.

  “There could be!”

  “Even if there was, how many churches have twenty-four floors?” Bondi said. “We’ve got to get serious. This isn’t that hard.”

  “Oh, sorry, I thought it was,” Melissa snapped.

  “No, it’s not!” Bondi said. “Think about it. Smith didn’t give us these clues. They came from Butler. So you know what that means.”

  “Smith doesn’t want us at the meeting,” Melissa said.

  Bondi shook his head. “No.”

  Wilf rolled his eyes. “What, you think he wants us to show up?”

  Bondi shot Wilf a look so cold it practically froze Wilf’s nose hairs. “No, Wilf. Of course not. It means Linus Ambrose doesn’t need us to solve these last clues. Because he already knows what they mean.”

  Wilf and Melissa exchanged a look.

  “Well, crud,” Wilf said.

  Inez: Okay, I’ve had it with this waiting stuff. It’s go time.

  Dimitri: Yes. I go too.

  Melissa bounced down the stairs of the coffee shop, followed by Bondi and Wilf. So closely, in fact, that it caused a pileup when she skidded to a stop on the front stoop.

  “Melissa, what the—?” Bondi started, his voice dying away as he realized what she was looking at.

  Standing in a row across the street were Dimitri, Inez, and Frank. They didn’t look happy.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Melissa said under her breath.

  “Tell me about it,” Bondi said softly. “What do we do?”

  “Hey, Frank, how’d you know we were all here?” Wilf shouted across the street.

  Frank jerked his head toward Dimitri.

  “Hey, Dimitri, how’d you know we were all here?” Wilf shouted.

  Dimitri pointed at Inez.

  “Hey, Inez—” Wilf started to shout.

  “What, you kids think I wasn’t going to use that GPS on your phones? Grow up!” Inez scowled at Wilf.

  Wilf pulled out his phone and looked at it. “Oh, right. GPS. Cool.”

  Melissa glared at Bondi and Wilf. “Look, if we trust Butler, we can trust them, right?” she said quietly.

  Bondi shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

  “But we’re trusting Butler?”

  Bondi made a face. “Do we have a choice?”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “Wait here.”

  Without another word, she marched across the deserted street. “One question, Dimitri. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Who do you work for? Who hired you? And don’t say Smith, because I know his name is Ambrose.”

  Dimitri nodded. “That is true. Mr. Ambrose hired me.”

  Melissa clenched her jaw, and turned her back on him. She had just started across the street when she hesitated.

  She swiveled back around. “You mean Linus Ambrose?”

  Dimitri cocked his head, a faint smile on his lips. “This is two questions. You said one.”

  “Dimitri! Linus Ambrose?”

  His smile widened. “Not Linus, no. I worked for Enoch Ambrose. The late Ambrose father.”

  Melissa looked at Inez and Frank. “What about you guys? Which Ambrose hired you?”

  Inez gave a barky laugh. “Are you kidding me? We worked for Enoch. Those kids of his are looney tunes.”

  Melissa grinned. “That’s all I needed to know,” she said, turning around and giving two thumbs up to Wilf and Bondi.

  Bondi’s invitation:

  Your attendance is requested

  3 P.M., at the Taj Mahal.

  Melissa’s invitation:

  Your attendance is requested

  This Monday, Clementine Hall,

  Pope’s Residence.

  Wilf’s invitation:

  Your attendance is requested

  24th Floor of the Alamo.

  HEY MOM,

  YOU KNOW THAT SCHOOL PROJECT? I’M GOING TO BE WORKING ON IT ALL DAY. IT’S SUPER IMPORTANT. SEE YOU LATER.

  THANKS,

  WILF

  Nice to see you taki
ng an interest in academics! Good for you!

  XOXO Mom

  L,

  Tell Gran I’ll be gone all day. Tell her school stuff. Even though it’s you-know-what.

  M

  P.S. Not a word to ANYONE. Seriously.

  P.P.S. I’ll give you the scoop when I get back. But only if you haven’t told. Not kidding.

  P.P.P.S. Destroy this note. (Not kidding here, either.)

  Bondi: Working in the library today, see you guys tonight. Did you try that kale salad I whipped up?

  Mom: Yes, I’m impressed! Are you taking home ec at school this year?

  Bondi: HOME EC? Where do you think I go to school? 1952?

  Dad: Don’t tell your mother, but thank God for that kale salad. That stuff she was making was about to kill me.

  Mom: Hey, I heard that!

  Your attendance is requested

  24th Floor of the Alamo.

  Your attendance is requested

  3 P.M., at the Taj Mahal.

  Your attendance is requested

  This Monday, Clementine Hall,

  Pope’s Residence.

  “Putting the clues in a different order isn’t going to make the answer magically appear, Bondi,” Melissa said, watching him shuffle the clues into various arrangements on the library table, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

  “You never know what’s going to do the trick, Melissa,” Bondi said. “And, if you hadn’t noticed, Monday is tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I know, okay? It’s not my fault we’re still totally in the dark about where we’re supposed to go,” she said, hovering over Bondi’s shoulder.

  “Look, we figured out the moon clue, and we’ll figure out these. We’re fine,” Bondi said, trying to ignore Melissa’s breath on the back of his neck. If she didn’t stop hovering soon, he was going to have to do something serious. Like stand up or something.

  Wilf snickered across the room. He’d draped himself over one of the reading room chairs and was flipping through an Encyclopedia Britannica—volume 5, Chile–Czech. His theory was that the answer had to be in there somewhere, so he was going to go through volume by volume until he found it. “Yeah, I don’t even know how we managed that one, though. Seriously, moon rock?”

  Bondi forced himself to stay cool and collected. Just focus on the clues, even if those two were acting like idiots and holding him back. “Well, we did. We’ll get this one, too. We just need to try everything.”

  “And the thing is, it’s not even at the Tribune Tower anymore!” Wilf laughed. “It’s like the only thing that’s missing. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff that place has, all stuck in it. It’s crazy!” He slapped volume 5, Chile–Czech, down on the table in favor of volume 9, G–Gyro.

  “Wait, what? It has stuff stuck in it?” Melissa asked, straightening up.

  “Yeah,” Bondi said, relieved to have airspace over his shoulder again. “Embedded in the outside. Well, not the moon rock—that was in a window display. But it has artifacts from all over.”

  Wilf flopped back in his seat. “It was part of a program that McCormick guy set up—he had Tribune reporters bring things back from all over the world, and then he stuck them in the outside of the building. You know, fragments from famous buildings or whatever.”

  Melissa almost didn’t want to breathe. “Famous buildings like what? Like…the Alamo?”

  Bondi straightened up so fast that if Melissa had still been hovering he would’ve knocked her cold. “Oh man. Oh man, oh man, oh man. There’s a list. Of the stuff, the artifacts. Where did we put the list, Wilf?”

  Wilf dropped volume 9 and scrambled for his notebook. “Beats me. I thought you had it!”

  Bondi yanked a crumpled printout out of the back of his notebook. “Oh man. Oh man. Okay…Alamo, Alamo, Alamo.” He moved his finger slowly down the list. “There are something like a hundred of them,” he said, glancing up at Melissa apologetically. “Okay, Alamo! It’s there. There’s a piece of the Alamo at the Tribune Tower.”

  Melissa picked up the next invitation. “Okay, try Clementine Hall. Pope’s residence.”

  “Okay. Pope, pope, pope, pope, pope…” Bondi muttered, going through the list again. His eyes grew wide. “Got it. It’s there! The pope’s residence is there!”

  Melissa’s fists were clenched so hard her knuckles were white. “What’s the last one? Wilf?”

  “Taj Mahal,” Wilf said. “Taj Mahal’s the last one.”

  Bondi went down through the list again, and his face broke into an enormous smile. “Right there!” he said, jabbing the list with his finger. “Taj Mahal!”

  “It’s the Tribune Tower,” Melissa squealed, clapping her hand over her mouth when she realized how loud she’d done it. “Tribune Tower! That’s where we go!”

  “Tribune Tower, twenty-fourth floor,” Bondi grinned, fist-bumping Wilf and Melissa. “Monday at three P.M. We are set.”

  Wilf: Come pick us up. We’re going to be millionaires!

  Frank was the only driver waiting when Bondi, Wilf, and Melissa raced down the library steps, clues and invitations carefully packed away in Melissa’s book bag.

  “What the heck? Where are the others?” Bondi said, skidding to a stop in front of Frank’s car. He looked up and down the street, but no Inez or Dimitri.

  “Coffee shop down the street. How’s hot chocolate sound?” Frank smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Well, okay,” Melissa said, looking at Frank suspiciously. She knew a fake smile when she saw one. “But why?”

  Frank shrugged. “We wondered if you’d let us take a peek at the clues. Old Ambrose could be pretty sneaky. We just want to see if we can spot any of his…pranks.”

  “You think it’s a trick,” Wilf said flatly.

  “Not necessarily. But there might be a little…twist in there,” Frank said apologetically.

  “I guess that’d be okay,” Bondi said slowly. “We’re doing fine without your help, though.”

  “I know. I know you are,” Frank said, starting down the street. “I’d just hate for Linus to get the better of you.”

  Dimitri was setting a large plate of cookies on the table as they came into the coffee shop. Melissa slid into the booth and grabbed a cookie, holding it with her teeth as she unzipped her book bag and retrieved the clue packet.

  She pushed it toward Dimitri. “This has all the clues—you know about those. We each got three to solve. And then these last three cards are invitations to a meeting place, but you need all three to figure it out. We just solved that one—it’s the Tribune Tower,” she said, biting into her cookie. “We’re supposed to go there with the answers to the other clues.”

  Inez pulled out the envelope of clue slips and thumbed through them while Dimitri started reading the instruction sheets.

  “That sounds…pretty straightforward,” Frank said slowly.

  “Too straightforward,” Inez said. “Nothing Enoch Ambrose did was straightforward. There’s no way that’s all there is to it.”

  Wilf groaned. “For real, guys? No offense, but just because we figured it out ourselves doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

  “Ashtray?” Inez said, pulling out her shoulder bag and scanning the table.

  “No smoking,” Dimitri said quietly.

  “Great.” Inez threw her cigarettes back into her bag. “You’re sure you got the meeting place right?”

  “Oh yeah,” Melissa said.

  “Positive,” Wilf said.

  “One hundred percent,” Bondi said.

  “And you’re sure you’ve got the clue answers right?”

  “Oh yeah,” Melissa said.

  “Positive,” Wilf said.

  “Ninety-eight percent,” Bondi said.

  Inez raised an eyebrow. “Ninety-eight percent?”

  “We’re pretty sure,” Bondi said. “Almost one hundred percent. But who knows?”

  “Probably closer to ninety-nine point forty-four percent,” Melissa said. />
  “Like the soap,” Wilf said.

  Frank, Dimitri, and Inez all looked over the table at Wilf.

  “You know. The soap? Ivory?” Wilf said, squirming a little in his seat. He picked up a cookie and stuck it in his mouth. It wasn’t his fault if they were ignorant about pop culture.

  Inez sighed. “Well, all I have to say is you better have those answers down cold.”

  “We will,” Bondi said.

  “Because there’s no telling what old Ambrose stuck in that will of his. You didn’t know him. He was a trickster. There was nothing he liked more than pulling a fast one.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Bondi said. “Right, guys?” He raised his hand for a high five. Melissa and Wilf responded, with varying degrees of success.

  “Excuse me.” Dimitri put one of the papers from the packet onto the table. “What is this, please?”

  “What is what?” Bondi leaned forward, frowning.

  Dimitri picked up the page and read it out loud. “‘Always remember: One points you forward. One takes you back. One is a trick.’”

  “Oh crud,” Wilf said.

  “I forgot about that part,” Bondi said with a groan.

  Melissa put the rest of her cookie down uneaten.

  Inez took the paper from Dimitri and peered at it closely. “That’s Enoch Ambrose’s handwriting.”

  Dimitri nodded. “These other pages, the contract with rules for you—I think they are from Mr. Linus. But this page is not.”

  “So whatever this is about, it’s definitely part of the inheritance?” Wilf slumped back in the booth.

  “So it would appear,” Dimitri said.

  Bondi crammed the last cookie in his mouth. “Snack time’s over,” he said once he’d finished chewing. “We’ve got more work to do.”

  PLAN OF ATTACK:

  Melissa—Find out everything there is to know about the Tribune Tower, 24th floor specifically.