by Nic Saint
“I wonder if he wears those lights in the shower,” I whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” asked Brice in his normal speaking voice.
“I don’t want to wake him up!” I loud-whispered back.
“Oh, but he can’t hear us, honey,” said Lucien. “Can’t see us, can’t hear us.”
“Oh, that’s all right then,” I said.
“I don’t think he wears them in the shower,” said Dalton, who’d been thinking hard about my question. “I think it would be hard to lather up.”
“Not to mention you might get electrocuted,” said Brice.
“Right,” I said. “Of course. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Can he really turn into a tree?” asked Dalton.
“No, of course not,” said Brice. “Humans can’t turn into trees. That’s impossible. Just like trees can’t turn into humans.”
“They had speaking trees in Lord of the Rings,” said Lucien, a propos of nothing. “They helped Pippin and Merry by attacking Isengard.”
Calvin cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry if I came off too strong back there, Saffron. You’re right. It’s none of my business who you kiss.”
“Though not all trees were good,” Lucien continued.
“It’s just that I’m not sure Logan won’t be causing us a lot of trouble.”
“I remember there was one tree in particular—”
“Will you shut up about those damn trees already!” Calvin cried. “I’m trying to say something here.”
“Oh, all right,” said Lucien. “Don’t get your panties in a wad.” And he huffed off, followed by Dalton.
“Calvin wears panties?” I could hear him ask.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he did,” said Lucien with an angry look back at Calvin.
Brice, meanwhile, stood admiring a framed movie poster of the movie Elf. “I liked that movie,” he said, nodding. “Perhaps Will Ferrell’s greatest performance.”
“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” asked Calvin, mopping his brow with his shirt sleeve. “But you’re my little sister.”
“I’m one year younger, Calvin,” I pointed out, not for the first time.
“I know that! But you’re still my little sister!”
“I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, Calvin. I don’t need you or the others to do that for me.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And I know you mean well, but shipping Logan away to Mars or Venus or some distant galaxy far, far away isn’t the solution.”
He stared at me. “You thought I was going to ship Logan to Mars?”
“Weren’t you?”
“Of course not! I was going to ask Grandma to ask Chief Whitehouse to put Logan in charge of traffic control or something.”
“You were going to make a traffic cop out of Logan?”
“Something like that. Anything but homicide. Keep him out of our way.” I laughed, and he frowned at me. “What’s so funny?”
“Logan! A traffic cop. I think he’d resign and go back to New Hampshire before he’d let that happen.”
“So? They have crime in New Hampshire. Let the New Hampshire branch of Karma Corps handle him. Good riddance.”
“I don’t think that would be fair to our colleagues in New Hampshire. Just let me handle Logan, Calvin. I promise you it’ll be fine.”
He shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way. But if he interferes with our work again, I’m taking drastic measures.”
“Having him direct traffic at the annual Christmas parade.”
“Why not? Maybe he’ll like it.”
“Hey! Over here! I think I’ve found it!” suddenly Dalton’s voice rang out.
We hurried over and found my brother in the kitchen, staring into the freezer.
“Why are checking out the poor chump’s freezer?” Brice asked.
“I was looking for some Ben & Jerry’s,” said Dalton. “I get midnight cravings. And that’s when I found this.” He pointed at an object in the freezer. It took me a while to figure out what it was, but when I did, I shrieked.
It was a finger, with a bloody little stump at the end, nicely frozen like a popsicle.
“Hey! I found something, too!” another voice sounded. This time it was Lucien, and we all hurried into the bathroom. Behind a panel beneath the bathtub, a wooden baseball bat lay hidden, and judging from the crimson spots on the top of the bat, this just might be the murder weapon…
Chapter 30
It didn’t take Calvin long to make the phone call to the police, and five minutes later the cavalry arrived, Logan the first one on the scene.
We stood watching from across the street, along with a bunch of other curious onlookers, as Huppert Bach was escorted out of his condo and into a waiting squad car. He looked lost and confused as they pushed down his head and folded him into the backseat. He didn’t have his Christmas lights or his pine cone hat and he looked as un-Christmassy as humanly—or treely—possible.
“It’s the weirdest thing,” said Calvin.
“What is?” I asked.
“The dispatcher told me another anonymous call had come in, just before mine.”
“Someone must have seen something,” I said. “I just wish they’d told us sooner.” I stared at Huppert Bach as he glanced out of the window of the cop car. “Poor guy,” I said. “He looks so sad.
“He’s a murderer, Saffron,” Calvin reminded me.
“Yeah, I know. But still.”
“Still what? He committed the crime, now he’ll do the time.”
“I would never have suspected him,” said Lucien. “He looked so cute in his Santa pajamas.”
“He probably didn’t look so cute to Mariana Piney when he swung that bat at her head,” said Calvin. “What were you doing checking out the guy’s bathtub anyway?”
“I was admiring the tiles. They had a Christmas motif. Très cute. But when I touched one, it dropped out. And that’s when the screaming began.”
I suddenly noticed Logan staring at Calvin’s Ford Taurus, a puzzled look on his face. Uh-oh.
“Guys, can he see us?” I asked. “Can Logan see us?”
“No, we’re still invisible,” said Brice.
“We’re not invisible,” said Calvin. “How many times do I have to say this? Our molecular composition is such that—”
“Is the car also invisible?” I asked.
Calvin followed my gaze. “Uh-oh. I think he just saw the car.”
“You should have parked it around the corner,” said Brice.
“I didn’t know we were going to find the murder weapon!” said Calvin. “Mr. Christmas is the last guy I suspected!”
Logan had approached the car and was checking the license plate.
“Do something,” Lucien urged. “We can’t be seen here. He’ll think we called the cops and he’ll ask us all kinds of annoying questions.”
“I can’t just make the car disappear,” said Calvin. “I can, however, wipe his mind.”
“No, you can’t,” said Lucien. “He’s the cop in charge of the investigation. If you wipe his mind he might forget the whole thing. He might let Mr. Christmas walk.”
“He’s not going to let Mr. Christmas walk. He’s got the bat and the finger.”
“Who puts a finger in his freezer?” said Dalton with a shiver. “Now I’ll never look at a tub of Ben & Jerry’s the same way again.”
“Killers put fingers in their freezers, that’s who,” said Brice knowingly. “It’s a classic shock effect. I’ve seen it a million times. Old school.”
“You’ve seen a million fingers in a million freezers?” asked Dalton.
“I think he means he’s seen it on TV,” said Lucien.
“You guys,” I said emphatically. “I think he’s seen us.”
“He can’t see us,” said Calvin.
Logan was looking at the small crowd that had gathered. And even though we were supposed to be invisible, I had the impression he was looking
straight at me! “He can see us!” I cried. “He’s staring at me. Right now!”
“Relax,” said Calvin. “He can’t see you. It’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible for RoboCop,” said Dalton admiringly. “The dude is a superhero.”
“RoboCop is not a superhero,” said Brice. “He’s a cyborg.”
“So? Iron Man is a kind of cyborg, and he’s a superhero,” said Dalton.
“Iron Man is not a cyborg,” said Brice. “No way.”
“Is too.”
“Is not!”
“Will you two shut up already?” asked Calvin irritably. “He’s coming.”
“Iron Man?” asked Dalton, surprised.
“No, RoboCop,” said Brice, pointing at Logan as he crossed the street.
“Police,” he said to the first person he encountered, and held up his badge. “Did you see what happened, sir?”
“No, officer,” said the man. “I heard the noise so I decided to take a look.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “He can’t see us.”
“I told you. We’re invisible,” said Lucien.
“We’re not invisible!” Calvin cried. “Our molecular composition is such that—oh, why do I even bother? Let’s just get out of here. Our work is done.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” asked Lucien. “Our car is parked right behind Logan’s. We can’t just get in and drive away.”
“Mh,” said Calvin. “You’re right. That would look weird.”
“I can’t believe Karma Corps didn’t think to give us invisible cars,” said Brice. “That would have been so cool. Hey, they should talk to Tony Stark. Stark Industries could design an invisible car.”
“Tony Stark doesn’t exist,” said Calvin through gritted teeth. “He’s a fictional character in a bunch of dumb movies. Let’s walk.”
“Walk home?” asked Lucien. “All the way? But that’s far!”
“It’s not that far,” said Dalton. “Just a couple of miles. It’s good for you, buddy.”
“But I found a bloody bat! I’m traumatized. I need to rest!”
“Walk it off,” said Calvin curtly.
And as we passed Logan, I darted a curious look at him. He gave no sign of recognition, though, and looked straight through me as I passed him. Weird. And interesting. I could see this invisibility thing coming in handy in the future.
“So that’s it?” I asked as we put some distance between ourselves and the police activity in front of Huppert Bach’s condo. “We just walk away?”
“Yep,” said Calvin. “Our work is done. Justice is served.”
“What if he gets himself an ace attorney and walks?” I asked.
“Then we make sure he’s punished some other way,” said Calvin.
“How?” I wanted to know.
“Some other way,” Calvin repeated, a little more emphatically.
“We hold hands, stare at the perp, and make him suffer,” said Brice.
“Yeah, it’s actually pretty cool,” said Dalton. “When the uncles first took me along on one of their missions, they caught a guy who’d escaped from prison and was living in Mexico under a fake name. The uncles tried to get the police involved, but the guy had paid off all the right people, so the cops couldn’t touch him. So they decided to take care of the guy themselves. Make him pay.”
“And?” I asked when he stopped talking. “What happened?”
“Oh, they zapped him,” said Dalton casually.
“Zapped him?!” I asked. “You mean like a bug?”
“Something like that,” he admitted. “Just like a big bug. Zapped him straight to purgatory.”
“You don’t know that,” said Lucien. “They could have zapped him straight to hell.”
“What’s the difference?” asked Dalton.
“Purgatory sounds a lot cooler,” said Brice. “I think I like it more.”
“Purgatory is where you go to atone for your sins,” said Calvin. “From there you can go to heaven or hell, that totally depends on you. Souls that are beyond redemption go straight to hell, without reprieve.”
“See? Purgatory is better,” said Brice.
“Who cares?” asked Dalton. “I just like the zapping part.”
“So who decides?” I asked.
“Karma Corps,” said Calvin briefly. It was obvious he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He probably blamed Logan for finding his car and making us walk. He suddenly turned to me. “Congratulations, sis, for a job well done. We caught the guy.”
“Actually Dalton and Lucien caught the guy.”
“Nah. We caught him. They just found the evidence.”
I smiled. “Hey. What do you know? I solved my first case.”
“Congrats, sis,” said Brice. “You’re a regular Karma Corps agent now.”
The others clapped me on the shoulder, and the closer we got to Diffley Manor, the prouder of myself I was starting to feel. I’d done it. I was a real agent now. “So you’re going to change Diffley & Sons to Diffley & Sons & Daughter now, huh?”
“I like Diffley Insurance,” said Brice. “Got a nice ring to it.”
“Or Diffley Brothers & Sister,” said Dalton.
“Or just DIFFLEY. Capital letters. Bold and powerful,” said Lucien.
Calvin uttered a groan of annoyance. “We’ll let the uncles decide.”
We were almost home when Lucien uttered a startled cry. We all turned to him. “What?” asked Dalton. “What’s wrong?”
“We could have called Grandma! She could have picked us up! We would have been home by now!”
“Eh. Too late now,” said Dalton.
“No, it’s not too late,” said Lucien, taking out his phone. “I’m calling her now.”
“Don’t call her! Grandma is old. She needs her sleep,” said Dalton.
“I need my sleep. I found a bloody bat!”
“You’re young and strong,” said Calvin. “You walk.”
“Who are you calling young and strong?! Take it back!”
And as my brothers argued amongst themselves, I glanced up at the starry sky. I’d caught my first killer. I was a full-fledged agent now. And as I looked at the stars, I thought I saw one blink down at me. I winked back.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “It’s great to be part of the team.”
Chapter 31
The next day, I was on my way to the police station when I happened to pass through Lake Street. Calvin had told me to ‘do follow-up’ on the Mariana Piney murder case by dropping by the police station and asking Logan about Huppert Bach’s arraignment. We needed to stay on top of things and make sure that Bach received the proper punishment for his crime.
I passed by Bell’s Bakery and thought about my fateful encounter with Logan. How were we ever going to pass beyond the fight we’d had? I’d told Calvin I’d take care of it—mainly because I didn’t want to see Logan ending up as a traffic cop, or transferring back to New Hampshire—but how to go about it?
That’s when I saw Neptune Brunat close the door of his office and cross the street, checking left and right as he did. “Mr. Brunat!” I yelled, and caught up with him. “Good news. They caught the killer last night.”
Neptune had halted ten yards from me and gave me a confused look. “Killer? Oh, you mean Mariana’s killer.”
I joined him in front of the newsstand and gestured at a copy of the Happy Bays Gazette, which had printed the story on its front page. ‘This Mister Christmas Not So Jolly!’ the headline screamed.
He glanced at it, not too impressed. “Mister Christmas?”
“Huppert Bach. They call him Mr. Christmas, on account of the fact that he likes to dress up like a Christmas tree. He’s a trans… species? Or something.”
“A transspecies, huh?” His lips tightened. “Well, I’m sure glad they caught him. Now Mariana can finally rest in peace.” He made to get away, but I was in such a good mood I couldn’t stop talking. It’s one of my defects. I tend to babble when I’m in a g
ood mood.
“They found Mariana’s finger in the freezer. Creepy, huh?”
“Yeah, real creepy,” he said, a little anxious. He glanced at his watch. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat, but there’s somewhere I’ve got to be, so…”
“They also found a baseball bat hidden beneath the bathtub. The murder weapon,” I explained when he stared at me blankly. “I’ll bet they found his fingerprints on it, too. Though I need to confirm with Logan—that’s Detective Logan Munroe. He’s in charge of the investigation. He caught the killer.”
“That’s… great,” said Neptune with a vague smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Oh, what happened?” I asked, suddenly catching sight of the insurance broker’s hand. It was completely black, parts of it covered in Band-Aids.
“Nothing,” he said, quickly hiding his hand behind his back. “I made pancakes last night and accidentally put my hand on the burner. Dumb move.”
“Ouch. That must have hurt,” I said. “I touched the burner once and my hand hurt so much I…” I stared at him, as suddenly a memory flitted into my mind. It was only a small thing, but it thrust itself to the forefront of my mind so powerfully I was left speechless. “You know… Huppert Bach’s Christmas lights were shorted out last night. I mean, the entire string was broken, with black soot smudging the archway all the way to the kitchen… Something like that could have happened when someone… tried to tie up… the bat.”
Neptune swallowed, his Adam’s apple bopping up and dropping down again. “That’s all very interesting, Miss Diffley, but I’m afraid I must be going.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, a little forcefully, taking a hold of his arm. “An anonymous call came in last night, about Huppert Bach.”
“Will you please let go of my arm?”
“I mean, two calls came in. The first one… how could they possibly know Huppert Bach was hiding a baseball bat underneath his bathtub? Or a finger in his freezer? Unless…” My eyes widened as my grip on the insurance man’s arm tightened.
“You’re hurting me, Miss Diffley,” said Neptune.
“Unless the killer called. The real killer—not the patsy. That finger. It’s been bugging me from the start. Why would the killer cut off Mariana’s finger? Because he didn’t want the police to find it—or something on it!”