by Emily Ecton
Linus Ambrose smirked at them. “I didn’t pick you because I thought you were better than anyone else, or ‘special.’ I picked you because I knew you immoral brats would lie and cheat to solve the problems, and that served my purposes. Well, your criminal scheming may have gotten you here, but it’s not going to get you any further. Lowlife scum like you doesn’t deserve a penny of Enoch Ambrose’s money.” He locked eyes with Bondi and then spit on the floor at his feet.
It was like he’d frozen everyone in the room. Wilf opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Even Inez seemed stunned. Bondi slowly looked down at the glob of spit, but he didn’t step back. He just silently folded his arms.
Linus Ambrose glared triumphantly at each of them and then turned his back, strolling over to the door of the directors’ room to await his turn.
Bondi and the others were still standing frozen when the door to the directors’ room opened. Sybil came out with a superior smile on her face.
Butler stood in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. “Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston has successfully passed this test and will now advance to the last and final level,” he announced, frowning slightly at the tension in the room. He looked questioningly at Bondi, but Bondi’s expression was blank. Butler turned to Linus Ambrose. “Mr. Ambrose?”
With a triumphant backward glance, Linus Ambrose shoved his way past Butler into the directors’ room. Butler nodded to Melissa and the others and then quietly closed the door behind him.
Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston immediately pulled out her smartphone, stalking over to the corner of the waiting room and ignoring the rest of them completely.
Melissa let out the breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. It seemed like the temperature in the room had gone up thirty degrees once Linus Ambrose had left, even taking into account the frosty patch in the corner that was Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston.
She didn’t care what that jerk had to say. She may have forged some worksheets, but that didn’t mean a forger was all she was. And no matter what Bondi and Wilf had done, they didn’t deserve to be called thieves and con artists. They weren’t losers and criminals. And nothing any of them had done made them as bad as Linus Ambrose.
She elbowed Bondi in the ribs. “You okay?”
Bondi nodded.
She toed the floor around the glob of spit, careful not to touch it. “Ew, right? What a loser.”
“Don’t mind him, he’s full of hot air,” Frank said quietly, putting his hand on Bondi’s shoulder. “What a load of horse hockey.”
“He’s so mad,” Melissa said softly.
“Well, that’s Linus for you,” Inez said, taking her cigarettes out of her shoulder bag, then reconsidering and tossing them back in unopened. “Grade-A blowhard.”
“You are not criminals,” Dimitri said, patting Melissa on the shoulder. “He is a sad man.”
“He really was mad,” Wilf said, looking at Melissa and Bondi. “I mean, really, really mad.”
“Yeah,” Bondi said. “And think how much madder he’s going to be when he figures out we gave him the wrong answers.” He raised his eyebrows at Wilf and Melissa. Melissa quickly bit her lip, but it was too late. Giggles were already starting to erupt.
“So mad!” She giggled.
“Please excuse, but you did what? Wrong answers?” The corner of Dimitri’s mouth twitched, just for a second. But that’s all it took to reduce the huddled group into a helpless mass of muffled giggles.
Sybil Ambrose-Murgeston: First test passed. Now waiting with gaggle of giggling idiots. Father’s lucky he’s dead, or I’d give him a piece of my mind.
Bitsy Worthington Sykes: That dead man wouldn’t know what hit him!
They could hear the shouting inside the office, but they still jumped when the door opened and they were hit with the full volume. Even Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston startled. She recovered quickly, though, and then glared at Bondi like it was his fault.
“YOU LIARS!” Linus Ambrose roared as he barreled into the room, grabbing Bondi by the collar. “You kids think you’re so clever. Well, you don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“Take your hands off the child, Mr. Ambrose,” Butler said quietly as he appeared in the doorway. “Or believe me, there will be legal repercussions.”
“There will be more than legal repercussions if you don’t let him go now,” Frank said, taking off his jacket and handing it to Inez.
“Repercussions my behind,” Ambrose scoffed, but he dropped Bondi like he was a hot coal. Bondi smoothed his shirtfront and glared back at Linus Ambrose, but his hands were shaking.
Linus leaned toward Wilf, so close that flecks of spit hit Wilf in the face. “You brats think you can cheat me out of my inheritance by being filthy liars?”
Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston gave a squeal of glee and tucked her phone away in her huge purse. “What’s this? You didn’t get those questions wrong, did you, Linus? They were so simple.”
“Shut up!” her brother bellowed.
“Mr. Linus Ambrose failed to provide the correct solutions to all the clues,” said Butler. “Therefore, he does not advance to the final trial. Mr. Ambrose, if you would please vacate the premises while those still eligible continue?”
Linus Ambrose sputtered like a wick that wouldn’t stay lit, his face turning from deep red to dark purple. “You…They…”
“Children, if you would?” Mr. Butler extended his arm toward the office, inviting the kids inside.
“Absolutely not!” Mr. Ambrose finally found his voice. “Even if it is within the rules for these delinquents to participate, they can’t all go in. You said it yourself—this is an individual trial. A bunch of random kids can’t all wander in like this is some kind of field trip. It’s for one heir and one heir only.”
He glared at Wilf like he was itching to throttle him, too. Wilf inched away from him.
Melissa took a deep breath and stepped forward, so she was practically under Linus Ambrose’s nose. “Excuse me, Mr. Ambrose. We are not a bunch of random kids. We come as a set. Sets come in all sizes.” She shot a quick smile at Dimitri. “And if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that you can’t break up a set.” She glared back up at Linus Ambrose, her chin raised defiantly.
Linus Ambrose’s hands clenched and unclenched, and then he pushed her out of the way as he headed for the door. “That’s it. I’m calling the authorities. You won’t get away with this, Hughes!” he yelled at the attorney. “I hope you’ll enjoy prison, because that’s where you’re heading. Mark my words.”
Mr. Butler just nodded. “Excellent. Children?” He turned his back on Linus Ambrose as he ushered Melissa, Wilf, and Bondi into the office, ignoring the murderous glare Linus Ambrose shot him as he stormed to the elevator.
To: Chief of Police
From: Sergeant Wilkins
Subject: Illegal activity by Ambrose Family lawyer?
Chief:
We got a call from one Linus Ambrose demanding that we arrest the Ambrose family lawyer for fraud, deceptive practices, grand larceny, corruption, and conspiracy to swindle him out of his inheritance. He says we can catch him in the act right now at the Tribune Tower, 24th floor.
I’m sending officers over, but isn’t Linus Ambrose the one who wanted his sister arrested for slander over that newspaper article? Anyway, this could be big.
Sgt. Wilkins
To: Sergeant Wilkins
From: Chief of Police
Subject: RE: Illegal activity by Ambrose Family lawyer?
Linus Ambrose? I’ve had it with that crackpot and his wild goose chases. Send a couple of officers over and arrest anyone on the premises. We’ll sort them out later. A night in jail should teach them a thing or two.
The Chief
“So.” Mr. Butler stood in front of the desk and picked up an official-looking leather notebook. “You made it this far. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks,” Melissa said.
“Yeah, well, we couldn’t just let that old guy win, right
?” Bondi grinned. “Not once we’d figured out what he was up to.”
Whatever the directors’ room had been like back in the day, now it was just a basic reception area. There was a desk across from the entrance, and two small couches were positioned along the wall on either side of the room. Beside each couch was a closed door.
“Those are the doors to McCormick’s and Patterson’s offices, I’m sure of it,” Melissa whispered to Wilf. He nodded and rubbed his nose. That mothball/peppermint smell was back and bugging him again, and he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. It wasn’t from Butler, he was sure of that.
“Well. Well done,” Butler said. He consulted a document in the notebook. “This is an unusual circumstance, because you’ve already answered these clues once. Do you stand by your previous answers? We won’t go through them again if you do, but if you’d like to make a change, this is the time.”
“I would,” Bondi said quickly. “One of mine before wasn’t right. I’d like to change that one.”
Butler nodded approvingly. “Certainly. Your previous responses were Buckingham Fountain, the Skydeck Ledge at the Willis Tower, and the staircase at the Rookery. Which of those would you like to change?”
Bondi cleared his throat. “Buckingham Fountain. That’s not the right one. It should be the Eli Bates Fountain in Lincoln Park, Storks at Play.” He grinned. “Also known as ‘Spitty Geese with Fish Huggers.’”
Butler took a silver pen out of his pocket. “Are you all in agreement?” he asked, looking at Wilf and Melissa.
“Yes,” Wilf said. Melissa nodded.
“Done.” Butler made a notation on his paper and then turned to Melissa. “And you? Any changes to make? You said…” He checked the paper again. “Lorado Taft’s Eternal Silence monument, the frieze known as Contribution on the InterContinental Hotel, and Finnigan’s Ice Cream Shop and the chick hatchery in the Museum of Science and Industry. Do you stand by those responses?”
Melissa took a deep breath. She was sure they were right. They had to be. “I do.”
Butler made another notation and turned to Wilf. “And you? Do you stand by your responses? They were the Bowman and Spearman statues at the entrance to Congress Plaza, the Tribune Tower, and the”—he cleared his throat—“Blue Cow Cafe on Michigan Avenue?”
Wilf forced himself not to look at Melissa and Bondi because he knew he’d crack up if he did. “Not the last one. That cafe’s in Michigan. The real answer to the last clue is the Mold-A-Rama machine in the barn at Lincoln Park Zoo. It makes a blue cow.”
Butler looked like he was trying not to smile. “I see.” He made a note on the paper and then put the notebook down on the desk, folding his hands in front of him. He looked at them with a somber expression on his face.
“I should tell you that I didn’t expect for you to reach this point, particularly since you were not personally acquainted with Enoch Ambrose. Regardless of the results, you should be proud to have made it this far.”
Bondi held his breath. That didn’t sound good. They hadn’t gotten one wrong, had they? And if they had, which one was it? He didn’t want to walk away with a “good try” and a pat on the back. And he hated the idea of that Sybil woman getting the better of him.
Bondi glanced over at Melissa and Wilf. Melissa’s fists were clenched at her sides so tightly that her knuckles had turned white, and Wilf was swaying slightly, like he was on the verge of passing out.
Bondi turned back to Butler just in time to see him smile.
Butler extended his hand to Bondi, Melissa, and Wilf in turn. “Congratulations. You have answered all the questions correctly. You will be advancing to the final level. Now, let’s tell the others, shall we?”
Wilf was the first one to let loose with a whoop, but it was only a second before the others joined in.
Sybil Ambrose-Murgeston: Si, review my father’s will ASAP. There are some irregularities here that are QUITE DISTURBING, namely URCHIN COMPETITORS. If you want to remain my attorney, you need to stop this nonsense. IMMEDIATELY. Unless you want to work for a pack of snot-nosed brats, I expect you to take this seriously. S. A.-M.
Silas Glover: Sybil, how many cocktails have you had today?
“Once again I want to register my extreme disapproval with this entire charade.”
Melissa hadn’t thought it was possible for Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston’s face to look any more pinched, but boy had she been wrong. Sybil looked like she’d sucked down a whole lemon tree.
“Again, noted,” Butler said, a weary tone creeping into his voice. He must have had a list of objections as long as his arm by now.
“Now!” He clapped once. “You have all demonstrated your qualifications by answering the nine clues correctly. But Enoch Ambrose stipulated that there be one final test.”
Everyone nodded. Melissa tried to keep herself calm. One final test. Did that mean one more question? How bad could it be? But they had no library to go to, no way to do research. If they blew this last part, that was it.
“As you know, this was once the directors’ room of the Tribune Company, run by Colonel Robert McCormick and Captain Joseph Patterson. These were their offices.” He indicated the doors to his sides. “Your final challenge is this: One of these doors leads to the entire Ambrose fortune. The other leads to nothing at all. Choose the door that you prefer, and everything you find within will be yours. But choose wisely. Which will it be? The door to my left, or the door to my right? You will have five minutes to make your decision.”
“What if we pick the same one as her?” Wilf pointed at Sybil.
“We will handle that contingency should it arise,” Butler said. “And remember, one points you forward, one takes you back, and one is a trick.” He looked at his watch. “Your five minutes start now.”
“I wish he hadn’t said that points-you-forward-takes-you-back part,” Wilf said quietly. “I hate that part.”
“Only because you don’t know what it means,” Melissa said.
“Exactly,” Wilf said.
Sybil Ambrose-Murgeston smiled to herself and made a big show of sitting down on one of the soft couches and examining her nails. Then she yawned like a bored, pampered cat in a Fancy Feast commercial. She obviously didn’t need the five minutes to make her decision.
“So this is it, huh?” Bondi said softly. “It comes down to this. So the one on the left, that’s McCormick’s office?”
Melissa nodded. She didn’t need the map of the office building anymore, she’d stared at it so long. She even remembered where Miss Higgins had sat, and she didn’t even know who the heck Miss Higgins was.
“So which one? McCormick or Patterson? I vote McCormick,” Bondi whispered, eyeing Sybil warily.
“McCormick,” Wilf agreed. “Definitely.”
Melissa nodded. “McCormick.”
“Well, that was easy.” Bondi smiled. “Man, I hope we’re right.”
Wilf shrugged. “It has to be him, right? I mean, that’s what my clue said, the co-editor in charge of the moon, right? And he’s the one everyone remembers.”
Melissa frowned. Something didn’t seem right with that, but she wasn’t sure what. “That’s true, but…” she said hesitantly.
“And McCormick’s the one Ambrose was always pranking,” Bondi said. “So, ready?”
Wilf nodded. Melissa was staring at the floor. Wilf nudged her. “Ready?”
“Oh, yeah. Right,” Melissa said finally.
Bondi looked down at her, his expression serious. “Hey. Right? Or have you thought of something? There’s still time.”
Melissa bit her lip but nodded. “No, right. I mean, that must be it. It’s just that—”
The sound of Butler clapping drowned out Melissa’s voice. Bondi cocked his head to the side, but Melissa just shrugged and shook her head.
“All right! Now, you have a choice to make,” Mr. Butler said. “And remember, everything you know, everything you’ve done up to this point should lead you to the right answer
.”
Butler turned to Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston. “As it has no bearing upon the results, we will begin with the children.” She rolled her eyes but waved her hand languidly, as if she were a queen granting his request.
“Now,” Butler continued. “Which of you will be answering for the team?” He looked at Bondi, but Bondi shook his head.
He nudged Melissa in the side. “It should be you. Go with your gut. We trust you.”
Butler turned to Melissa. “Miss Burris, please speak for your team. Which of the two rooms do you select?”
Melissa swallowed hard. Bondi and Wilf were right. It had to be McCormick.
“We select the room…” she said, her voice squeaking. She cleared her throat and started again. She opened her mouth to say McCormick. She meant to say McCormick. “We select the room…” And suddenly all the pieces fell into place.
She shot an apologetic look at Wilf and Bondi. “We select the room on the right. Captain Patterson’s office.” Melissa’s eyes widened at what she’d heard herself say.
Bondi gave a low whistle.
Wilf stared down at the floor. “Wow,” he muttered.
Melissa looked up at Butler, hoping to see approval on his face, but he had already turned to Sybil. “And you, Mrs. Ambrose-Murgeston?”
“The room on the left, of course. Colonel McCormick’s office. Obviously.” She smirked at Melissa and stood up, smoothing her skirt.
“Very good. Your choices have been made.” Butler was expressionless as he opened a drawer in the desk and took something out.