by James Leck
Snurt’s eyes blazed. “Come with me,” she said through clenched teeth. “You stay here, Ronny,” she added, and led me down to her office.
“Take a seat,” she said, closing the door behind us.
I did as she asked and noticed that she had two monitors on her desk, just like Snit. This whole crazy gambit might actually pay off.
“You can’t prove anything,” I said again.
She pursed her lips, sat down at her desk and fumbled around with a few buttons on her computer.
We sat there in silence for about thirty seconds, and then she looked up and glared at me. “Now we’ll see,” she said, swiveling the monitor around so that I could see the screen, “who’s telling the truth.”
There I was, the star of the show, in Technicolor, standing in front of the school, frozen in time.
“You didn’t expect this, did you, Mr. Lime?” she said. Before I could answer, she pressed Play.
“Hello, Ronny,” I said, “fancy meeting you here.”
We sat there and watched the whole give-and-take between me and Ronny play out. I have to admit, I enjoyed watching Snurt’s face go from confident to confused when Ronny started chirping about how he and his friend had stolen Tyler’s comic. By the time she came striding onto the screen to confront me, her face had gone from confused to just old-fashioned angry.
“High school students are not permitted on the middle school grounds. I don’t want to see you here again,” she said, stopping the video clip and standing up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to have a word with Ronny.”
“I have more proof,” I said. “I’ve got a photo of Ronny in the gym, moments before Tyler Butts’s comic was stolen. Plus, if you ask to see the security tapes at the train station, they’ll corroborate my alibi and prove that Tomas Van Kramp met with me there two days ago. They might also show who actually put Tyler’s comic book in the locker. And that’s the truth, Ms. Snurt.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lime. I’ll be contacting Mr. Snit this afternoon. We’ll investigate this matter together,” she said. “Could you please tell Ronny to see me on your way out.”
“My pleasure,” I said, and left.
When I strolled into the main office, I told Ronny that Snurt wanted to have a little chat. Ronny got white in the face and weak in the knees. I think I even heard his teeth chattering as he walked by.
“Say hello to Tomas for me,” I said to Ms. Van Kramp on my way out.
“Does he know you?” she asked, looking up from her laptop.
“We met once,” I said and headed back to school.
Friday, November 1, 4:59 p.m.
A street with no name, Grandma’s House
“That all went down today at lunch,” I said, looking across the kitchen table at KC. “By two o’clock I was getting hauled down to Snit’s office for an emergency meeting. I got the impression that Ronny cracked faster than an egg in an omelet shop and spilled the beans about everything. Snit even asked me about Tomas Van Kramp and our meeting at the train station. On my way out, I got to say a friendly hello to Cain and Mike the Bookie, who were sitting in the main office looking glum. Long story short, their criminal organization is getting blown apart like a deck of cards in a hurricane. Just the same, half the school still thinks I’m a two-bit scam artist, thanks to that video, so I’m sure you can see how having this story in your newspaper would help clear my name.”
“I can see that, Jack,” she said, “but I don’t know if I can run it.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know if you can run it? This is the biggest crime story to ever come out of Iona High.”
“I don’t know if Mr. Snit would let me print it if Tomas Van Kramp is involved.”
“What’s so important about Tomas Van Kramp?”
“You know who the Van Kramps are, right, Jack?”
“A family with a knack for producing school secretaries?”
“They’re not actually the secretaries, Jack.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you know who Anton Van Kramp is?”
“Should I?”
“Anton Van Kramp owns Luxemcorp, Jack. Born in Switzerland, sixty-four years old, and the seventh richest man in the world. He’s currently married to Maria Van Kramp, and they have three children: Victor, Elizabeth and Tomas.”
“You know a lot about Anton Van Kramp,” I said.
“It’s my job to know things, Jack. Basically the Van Kramps own this town.”
“Well, what are they doing traipsing around like they’re secretaries?”
“Anton Van Kramp has built towns like Iona all over the world, and he’s a real stickler for details. So he travels around with his family checking up on things. Mr. Snit isn’t Mr. Van Kramp’s boss — it’s the other way around.”
“So you’re afraid to print the story even though these yahoos tried to frame me for a crime I didn’t commit?”
“I don’t think Mr. Snit will run it.”
“Then run it yourself, KC. This is the scoop of a lifetime.”
“My parents work for Luxemcorp, Jack,” she said, looking down at her notepad. “If I wrote a story that said Tomas Van Kramp was a criminal mastermind, without a mountain of evidence, they might get in trouble, and I don’t want to risk that.”
“Evidence?” I said. “Jake Clim is Tomas Van Kramp. I saw him with my own two eyes, Stone. And once Snit checks the security cameras at the train station, he’ll see that Tomas met me there, just like I said! There’s some evidence for you.”
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, collecting her things, “but I can’t run the story, not until I get a few more facts.”
“Fine,” I said, banging the table and getting up, too, “but you can forget about any more interviews.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
“I’m not,” I said, escorting her out of the kitchen, through the living room and over to the front door. “So long, KC,” I said, holding the door open.
“Thanks for the pumpkin pie,” she called to my grandma. “It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” Grandma said.
“The next time you hear about a damsel in distress, Stone, go ask someone else for help. I’m closed for business.”
She nodded, stepped outside, and I slammed the door.
I was halfway up the stairs and heading for my room when the phone rang.
“It’s for you, Jack,” Grandma called from the kitchen.
I went back downstairs and took the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Jack,” a robotic voice said on the other end. I glanced down at the call minder. The number was 555-3333.
“Who is this?”
“You’ve ruined everything, you know. My whole team is going up in flames. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to infiltrate the Riverside Boys? Do you know how much work that is?”
“Tomas?” I said.
The caller laughed. “Jake Clim? Does anybody know a Jake Clim? Jeesh, Jack, sometimes you make me wonder.”
“Mike?”
“Believe me, Jack, Mike isn’t smart enough to run something like this. He couldn’t even hang on to his little black book, for Pete’s sake. No, Mike and Cain, Ronny and Tomas — they all needed to be steered in the right direction. They needed leadership, Jack.”
“And you’re their rotten leader, is that it?”
“First I go through all the trouble of getting Lance under my thumb, and you ruin it. Me and my associates could have made a lot of money off of Lance, and the cavemen in the Riverside Boys would’ve thanked us. I didn’t think you could save him, or I never would’ve sent Betty your way. I thought you would just show the world what a fool you really are, and maybe get expelled along the way, but oh no, you managed to bumble through it someho
w.”
“Bumble through it?” I said. “Let me tell you something, I —”
“Stop! Just stop talking! I’m tired of listening to you talk! I’ve been listening to you talk for too long. I’m trying to vent here, Jack, and you’re interrupting my villainous monologue.”
“You like big words, don’t you?” I said.
“I’m sorry, are those words too big for you, Jack? How’s this — you’re cutting me off! I’m trying to explain things to you and you don’t have the brains to shut up and listen.”
“I’m shutting up,” I said.
“Good. First you ruin everything with Lance, then we frame you for stealing Mike’s ‘diary’ and you wiggle out of that, too. So, then I have to go and spend all my free time getting close to Anton Van Kramp and his little cretin of a son, Tomas. I was lucky that my parents work for Luxemcorp, and it helped that I could tell him I was on official school business, otherwise he never would’ve let me through the door. I had to do a lot of research for him to buy that one. It’s not easy getting close to the Van Kramps, but with a Van Kramp on your side, you can get things done.”
“Criminal things.”
“Oh, Jack, what’s a crime to you is just plain fun for me. It’s all in the eye of the beholder, don’t you think?”
“A crime is a crime, no matter what way you try to cut it.”
“Getting rid of a bully like Tyler Butt is a crime? I don’t think so.”
“You tried to frame me!” I said.
“Yes we did, and all my planning would’ve paid off if Ronny could’ve kept his tiny mouth shut. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to watch an imbecile like you stumbling around, solving crimes through sheer luck, while someone like me spends so much time and effort planning perfect schemes? I couldn’t laugh you off anymore, Lime. I simply had to get rid of you.”
“Looks like you failed, compadre.”
“I don’t think so. The video’s still out there, and that’s what people are going to believe. The damage is done. You’re through in this town.”
“This is getting old, and fast. Turn off that robot voice and tell me who you are. Then we can finish this mano a mano. Or are you too yellow?”
“You’re right, Jack, this is getting old. I guess you’re not the only one who likes to hear themselves talk. As for the yellow part, I’m not afraid of you, I just thought a detective of your stature would have more serious problems to deal with — like hangnails and out-of-control nose hairs.”
Hang nails and out-of-control nose hairs? Who’d said that to me? Someone who got close to the Van Kramps. Someone who had parents that work for Luxemcorp. Someone who could say they were on official school business. Someone who’d been listening to me talk for a long time. Someone who sent Betty my way.
“KC?” I said, but the line was dead, and then my condition kicked in, and I fell into a deep dark hole called sleep.
The End
The names of the people and places haven’t been changed to protect the innocent. Everything is exactly as it happened.