by Stuart Gibbs
“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss them,” Molly said coolly. “You’d be surprised what they’re capable of. And we’ve picked up some chatter from them over the past few weeks. . . .”
“Chatter?” I asked.
Molly suddenly swiveled toward me. I couldn’t read her expression behind her sunglasses, but it didn’t appear she was happy to be interrupted. And by a kid, no less.
It occurred to me that the rules had changed. The last time there’d been a crime at FunJungle, I’d been allowed to ask questions. (Hoenekker might not have appreciated it, but it had been allowed.) Now it seemed that I had spoken out of turn.
Molly removed her glasses, allowing me to see her eyes for the first time. They were a piercing green, the same color as the skin of an emerald tree boa, and they seemed to be boring right through me. “You must be Theodore Roosevelt Fitzroy,” she said. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you from my sister. She says you’re a real troublemaker.”
“Your sister is wrong,” I replied.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Molly looked to Marge again and gave her another cruel smile.
“Anything you’ve heard about Teddy being troublesome is erroneous information,” J.J. said quickly. “Your sister—and all of us at FunJungle—have found him to be of great help in solving several cases here. He might only be a boy, but he’s a regular Encyclopedia Brown. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have him around.”
Molly laughed. “At the FBI, we don’t need children to help us solve our crimes. We’re fully capable of handling them on our own.”
The three FBI agents laughed at this as well.
No one who worked at FunJungle thought it was funny. Even Marge. Her annoyance at her sister seemed to even trump her usual annoyance at me.
“Speaking of which,” Molly went on, then turned to face me and Summer. “This is a crime scene, children. You need to leave it. Now.” She then shifted her attention to all the adults. “That goes for the rest of you too. This area is restricted to FBI personnel—unless I request your presence. And at the moment, the only person I need is Chief Hoenekker.”
With that, she turned her back on everyone, as though we had suddenly ceased to exist, and stepped inside the panda truck.
On the loading dock, the other three FBI agents formed a human blockade between us and the crime scene.
Hoenekker started to say something, but J.J. caught his arm before he could. “I know you’re not happy about this,” J.J. told him, “but there’s no point in arguing it. You’re not gonna win. So just be a good soldier, play ball, and help get Doc and my panda back.”
J.J. then turned to me, looking genuinely sorry. “Looks like you’re gonna have to sit this one out, Teddy. I’m sure we can trust the feds to handle it. C’mon, folks. We’ve all got better things to do than milling around here all day.” He headed back down off the loading dock.
There was nothing to do but follow him. I glanced at Marge as we all left. She was glaring back at the panda truck. It occurred to me she’d only spoken two words to her sister.
“I can’t believe this,” Summer protested to her father. “How can they just come in here and kick all of us out like this?”
“Their job is to solve the crime,” J.J. explained. “How they do it is up to them.”
“Well, if they want to solve the crime, why boot Teddy? He’s the best crime-solver we have!”
“I’m not as good as the FBI,” I pointed out. “I’m only thirteen.”
“And barely thirteen, at that,” Mom added. “To be honest, Summer, I’m glad this happened. I know Teddy has solved some other cases here, but he always ended up in danger as a result. You did too, last time. I’d prefer that not happen again. Plus, it’s not only an animal whose life is at stake this time; it’s Doc, too. So I’m happy to leave this in the hands of the professionals for once.”
At this, she gave J.J. a glance. It was quick, but it was loaded with meaning; Mom was still angry at him for forcing me to help investigate the last case at FunJungle.
“Okay, Mrs. Fitzroy,” Summer said. “I get it.” But then, she leaned in close to me and whispered, “They’re still making a mistake. I’ll bet you could solve this with your eyes closed.”
I grinned, pleased by Summer’s faith in me, although I was secretly relieved to be kicked off the case. Mom was right. In the past year, while investigating the various crimes at FunJungle, I’d been stranded in a room with a venomous snake (which had yet to be found), plunged into a shark tank, left face-to-face with an escaped tiger, barely avoided being trampled by elephants, gaurs, and Cape buffalo—and dangled above a pit full of man-eating crocodiles.
Plus, I wasn’t as sure of my crime-solving abilities as Summer was. I might have cracked a few cases, but maybe that had just been luck. I had no idea how someone could have kidnapped Doc and Li Ping from a moving truck without Large Marge or the drivers noticing, and I feared that, maybe this time, I wouldn’t figure it out. Which would let everyone down—and leave Doc and Li Ping in danger.
So as we left the crime scene behind, I actually felt fine. Yes, I was annoyed with how dismissive Molly O’Malley had been about me, but overall, I was happy that a professional organization like the FBI had been brought in to solve the crime and that, for once, an investigation was going to take place without me.
Only, things didn’t work out that way at all.
THE THREAT
“I can’t believe Marge has a sister like that,” Summer said.
“Neither can I,” I agreed. Even though a lot of strange things had happened that morning—Li Ping and Doc vanishing, a dolphin stealing my bathing suit—the fact that Marge and Molly O’Malley were sisters was the hardest to believe.
“All this time we’ve known Marge and she never mentioned a sister once,” Summer said.
“Why would she?” I asked. “Marge has barely said anything to me except ‘You’re in trouble now, Teddy.’ ”
“Or”—Summer did her best Marge impression, scowling—“I’ll get you this time, you little pipsqueak!”
I laughed, so she kept going. “You’re a bad egg, Teddy Fitzroy! Sure, our animals are getting killed and stolen, but you put a whoopie cushion on the seat of my car! As far as I’m concerned, you’re public enemy number one and I won’t rest until you’re behind bars!”
Summer’s impression was startlingly good, and very funny. I was laughing so hard, I had to steady myself against the railing of the polar bear exhibit.
We were inside the Polar Pavilion, because it was the coldest exhibit at FunJungle. Since Li Ping was missing and we’d been kicked off the investigation, we now had the day free at FunJungle. It was nasty hot, though. At 10:00 a.m., it was already ninety-five degrees, and so humid, it felt like we were swaddled in wet towels. So we’d come to the fake Arctic.
Other zoos had heavily air-conditioned exhibits for polar bears, but FunJungle was the only place that refrigerated the entire building. This allowed guests to see the bears in their natural habitat—or at least, a facsimile of it—without glass in between them. The bears had a big, icy area the size of a baseball diamond, surrounded by a moat of frigid water that they loved to swim in, and the guests could watch it all from a pathway that looped the moat. (A safety railing canted out a foot beyond the viewing wall to keep anyone from accidentally falling in.) On occasion, FunJungle even made it snow inside the building, using a specially designed machine that blew ice flakes out of vents in the ceiling. The bears and the guests all enjoyed this, although on several occasions, park security had to stop guests from pelting the polar bears—or other people—with snowballs. Keeping such a big building so cold made the Polar Pavilion the most expensive exhibit to maintain at FunJungle, costing thousands of dollars a month for air-conditioning alone.
There were also other cold-weather animals in the pavilion: walruses, leopard seals, crabeater seals, and beluga whales, all of which could be seen above and below water. And of course, there were pengui
ns: a huge colony of emperors, Adélies, gentoos, macaronis, chinstraps, Humboldts, and jackasses. (Some guests had actually complained about the names of the last ones, but “jackass” was the official appelation; they were called that because their braying cries sounded somewhat like donkeys.) The penguins were still kept behind glass, though. They weren’t dangerous; they just smelled terrible. Three dozen penguins produced a tremendous amount of penguin poop, and the entire exhibit reeked of partially digested fish.
Normally, a day as hot as this one would have been far more crowded in the Polar Pavilion, but the crowds were still mobbing the Panda Palace. While news had quickly spread about Li Ping’s arrival that morning, lots of guests had missed the update that the panda wasn’t on display yet. So now they were pouring into the park and racing straight to the empty panda exhibit. Since that was on the far side of FunJungle from the Polar Pavilion, most people hadn’t come back our way yet. By afternoon, however, the pavilion would probably be packed wall to wall with people seeking a break from the heat.
There were still a few guests around, though, so Summer was taking care to avoid being recognized. She had changed out of her usual pink clothes, tucked her long hair up underneath a FunJungle sunhat, and was now wearing sunglasses even though she was indoors.
“Molly must be way smarter than Marge, right?” Summer asked me. “I mean, she’s FBI.”
“I guess,” I agreed. “She seemed smart.”
“But not very nice.”
“No. Especially not to Marge.”
“Do you think she might have been right, then?” Summer lowered her voice, to make sure no one around us would overhear her. “About her suspects for stealing Li Ping?”
“I don’t know. I guess it could be animal traffickers or someone with a grudge against the Chinese government. But I’m not sure about that animal rights group.” I tried to remember the name she’d mentioned. “The Nature Freedom Foundation?”
“Freedom Force,” Summer corrected. “Daddy’s always complaining about them. They splintered off from the Animal Liberation Front, and they’re even more determined to get FunJungle shut down. They’ve been picketing out along the road that leads here, and Daddy thinks they might have sabotaged some of the construction equipment for the new rides.”
“Really?” I asked. It made sense that I might have missed the picketers, as I always came into the park through the rear employee entrance near my house, but I was surprised I hadn’t heard about something as big as sabotage. “What happened?”
“One of the cranes building the Black Mamba Coaster broke down a few weeks ago. The electrical panel or something. No one could figure it out, but Daddy’s sure the NFF messed with it. They hate this park. No matter how well we treat the animals, they still act like this is just some giant prison. So, yeah, I could see them taking Li Ping.”
I shook my head, not liking this idea. “When Henry the Hippo was murdered, everyone thought the Animal Liberation Front was behind it, and they were wrong.”
“That doesn’t mean the NFF didn’t do this.”
“If the NFF is against animals being held captive in zoos, why would they take one captive themselves?”
“For ten million dollars. That could fund an awful lot of enviro-activism.”
“There are ways to get ten million dollars that don’t involve stealing a panda.”
“Maybe. But this one might work.”
I stared out at the polar bears, thinking about that. There were two bears on display at the moment, pacing around on the ice. Both were enormous. Polar bears are the largest predators on land; each weighed nearly half a ton and was as big as a rhino when on all fours.
“Is your father really going to pay up?” I asked.
Summer shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think the FBI wants him to. But he has to get that panda back. It’ll be a disaster for the park if he doesn’t.”
I frowned. “I still don’t think it’s the NFF. Like you said, they mostly picket the park. Even if they sabotaged a crane, that doesn’t make them a bunch of commandos. I doubt they’d know how to steal something from a moving truck.”
“Well, it couldn’t be animal traffickers either,” Summer said. “If they’re going to sell the panda, why would they leave a ransom note?”
“To make us think it was the NFF,” I suggested. “Or some other animal rights group. And while the FBI is distracted, they deliver Li Ping to their buyer. I’ll bet there’s plenty of rich people who’d love to have a panda.”
“Maybe,” Summer said, though she didn’t seem so convinced. “I have to go to the bathroom. Wait here for me?”
“All right,” I said.
Summer headed to the women’s room. I returned my attention to the polar bears.
They were now sniffing the air, like they were on the hunt. FunJungle often pumped scents into the room to keep the bears stimulated. Their sense of smell was far more keen than humans’—in the wild, they had been known to detect a carcass from twenty miles away—so FunJungle used scents so faint that humans couldn’t even detect them. Which was good news when the smell being pumped into the room was that of a rotting seal. The guests never knew it was being done; as far as they were concerned, the bears were just putting on a show.
One bear inhaled deeply and reared up on its hind legs. It was nearly ten feet tall like this, taller than almost any other animal on earth. The guests around me gasped in amazement.
I sniffed the air myself, trying to pick up on the scent. This time, I thought I caught a hint of something rank. Only, it smelled more like bad body odor than I expected.
Marge O’Malley suddenly leaned against the rail next to me.
I fanned my nose in disgust. On a hot day like this, Marge sweated a great deal and could overwhelm even the most powerful deodorant.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
I tried to run, because that was generally a good move whenever Marge came looking for me. But she grabbed my wrist before I could get away.
“I wasn’t doing anything!” I told her. “I was just standing here.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m not here to bust you.”
“Really?” I asked suspiciously.
“Really.”
“Then let go of me.”
Marge did. She released my wrist and held her hands up, palms open, signaling she meant no harm. Unfortunately, with her arms raised, the stench from her armpits was even worse. Even the polar bears seemed bothered by it. The one on its rear legs dropped down and covered its nose with its paws, as though trying to block Marge’s body odor from entering its nostrils.
“What do you want?” I asked.
Marge grimaced, like what she was about to say was going to cause her physical pain. “I need your help.”
The statement was so startling, I thought I hadn’t heard her correctly. “What?”
“I need your help,” Marge repeated, through gritted teeth this time.
“Doing what?”
“Putting my big-shot, know-it-all sister in her place.”
“You mean, like playing a prank on her?”
“No, doofus. I want to find this panda before she can. And prove that Molly’s not as smart as she thinks she is.”
I gave Marge a wary look. “I can’t do that. Your sister told me to stay away from the investigation.”
“Because she’s afraid of a little competition.”
“No. Because she wants me to stay away. And disobeying her is against the law.”
“There’s no law that says we can’t investigate this crime too.”
“Actually,” I said, “I think there is. . . .”
“Well then, we’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t know we’re doing it.”
I looked around to see if any other guests were eavesdropping on us. Everyone seemed too distracted by the bears, though. And they were keeping their distance to get away from Marge’s stench. I said, “Every time there’s been a crime at this park, you’
ve accused me of committing it and ignored all my attempts to find the actual criminal. And now you’re asking me to investigate a crime even though the FBI has ordered me not to?”
“Yes,” Marge said, completely ignorant of the irony. “You’re always trying to prove what a brilliant kid you are. So now I’m giving you the chance to do it.”
“But I don’t want to do it.”
“Well, you’re going to do it anyhow.”
“No I’m not.” I tried to slip away.
Once again, Marge moved faster than I had expected, as though she’d anticipated this. She grabbed my arm and shoved me up against the railing. “You don’t understand what it was like, being her sister.” There was anger in Marge’s voice, though I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me or Molly. “She was always so good at everything: school, sports, dating, you name it. She was the valedictorian and the homecoming queen. And she rubbed every last bit of it in my face. My whole life, she’s been telling me she’s better than I am. And now, as if that wasn’t enough, she shows up on my turf, claiming jurisdiction over my case, acting like the panda’s disappearance is my fault somehow.”
“Marge, it is kind of your fault. . . .”
“It is not!” Marge’s shout was so loud, the polar bears lifted their heads, startled. The other tourists turned our way, curious.
I lowered my voice so they couldn’t hear me. “But you were supposed to be guarding Li Ping in the truck when someone stole her.”
“I was on the alert every minute of that ride,” Marge said defensively. “I didn’t drop my guard for one moment.”
“Then how’d someone steal the panda?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be coming to you for help, would I?” Marge backed off a tiny bit, allowing me to pull away from the cold railing.
“You were on guard for eighteen hours straight?” I asked dubiously. “You didn’t fall asleep?”
“Never.”
“Not even in the middle of the night?”
“I was drinking coffee the whole time. I’m telling you, whoever took Leaf Spring was no ordinary criminal.”