Oliver paled and shook Archer’s shoulder. Archer snapped to and locked eyes with Kana.
“Who lives in your house now?”
“Why do you want to know who lives in her house?” Adélaïde asked.
“He wants to use my old house to get into the gardens and hop over the wall so he can break into the Birthwhistles’ house,” Kana said. “That’s the part I don’t understand. Why do you want to break into the Birthwhistles’ house?”
“That’s the part you don’t understand?” Adélaïde marveled.
“It’s a long story,” Archer said. “I’ll explain everything, Kana. But we need to investigate something.”
Kana bit her lip, thinking it over. “It’s a shame you can’t ask Digby.”
Digby? Archer knew Digby. Digby went to the Button Factory. But why would he ask . . . His eyes widened. Of course. Digby’s mother was Mrs. Fig, the lady who’d given him an earful at Rosewood Station. Benjamin had stayed with the Figs until his father arrived. Was Benjamin’s other neighbor Digby? Archer didn’t have to ask.
“I’ll fig the phones,” Kana said, hurrying away. “I mean, I’ll phone the Figs.”
♦ A FIG IN THE HAND IS WORTHLESS ♦
“And you’re certain Digby is at DuttonLick’s?” Adélaïde asked, walking alongside Kana as they set off for Howling Bloom Street.
“I’m sure,” Kana replied. “Mrs. Fig said Digby had only just left his house. I think he’ll help you. He’s nice. Or at least, he doesn’t make fun of me.”
While making their way north, Archer and Adélaïde had told Kana everything. She listened intently. Archer didn’t expect her to believe him. No one else in Rosewood would have. The strange thing was, Kana did believe him. She didn’t question any of it.
“I’ve never liked Mr. Birthwhistle,” she said. “He frightens me.”
Oliver trudged a few feet behind everyone. He hadn’t taken kindly to being told he was a worrywart. And he didn’t like seeing Archer and Adélaïde being so chummy with Kana.
“Caution is sensible,” he mumbled as they approached the sweetshop.
Before entering, Archer asked the others if they wouldn’t mind pooling their money together in order to buy Digby some sweets. He wasn’t going to force Digby to help him, but a little bribe never hurt anyone. Archer, Adélaïde, and Kana had a few coins between them. Oliver had a single coin and a bent paper clip.
“My parents cut my allowance,” he explained.
They scoured DuttonLick’s shelves until Archer’s arms were overflowing with sweets. At the counter, Oliver handed Mr. DuttonLick the slip with their parents’ signatures, and Adélaïde paid for the candy.
“Can’t get enough of my genius sweets, can you, Archer?” Mr. DuttonLick chirped, winking at him. Archer smiled awkwardly. “Come back next week! We have lots to do!”
They found Digby on the third floor, sitting alone on a couch like a bump on a log. Digby was on the rounder side, like his mother. But fortunately, he hadn’t inherited her frightening smile.
“A belated merry Christmas, Digby!” Adélaïde cheered half-heartedly as Archer dropped the sweets into his lap.
Digby’s whole face lit up. Archer thought he might explode.
“This was very nice of you!” he said, wasting no time tearing open a box of seahorse bubble gum and popping a handful into his mouth. “I didn’t realize I’d spent all my Christmas money until I got here.”
“You might not think it’s very nice of us in a minute,” Archer said as they all sat down before him.
Digby stopped chewing.
Kana had suggested Archer not mention anything about Mr. Birthwhistle being an attempted murderer, so Archer spun a confectioned tale, explaining to Digby that Benjamin had been his roommate at Raven Wood and that he’d gotten Benjamin a Christmas gift, but because Benjamin wouldn’t be returning to Raven Wood, he wanted to leave the gift in Benjamin’s bedroom as a fun surprise.
Digby popped a few more pieces of gum into his mouth, looking skeptical.
“I have a key, but they’ll have to do it for you,” he said, wadding the gum in his cheek and pointing at Oliver, Adélaïde, and Kana. “You can’t come, Archer. My mother doesn’t like you or your family. She says you’re strange and dangerous people.”
Archer slumped back into the couch.
“But you’ll let us in if Archer doesn’t come?” Adélaïde confirmed.
“Sure. But you’ll have to be quick. My mother can’t know.”
It was obvious where Adélaïde was going with this. It was equally obvious that Oliver wanted no part in breaking into the Birthwhistles’ house without Archer. Perhaps that was what he was about to say when he caught Kana eyeing him. You worry about everything.
“Get out of my head, Kana!” Oliver demanded. “It’s creeping me out!”
Kana hadn’t said a word, and if anyone was acting weird, it was Oliver.
“And you’re wrong anyway. I’m not worried.” He paused as though not believing what he was about to say. “I’ll be in charge of this.”
Digby’s cheeks bulged with gum. “Why would you be worried about giving Benjamin a gift?”
“We’re not,” Adélaïde said quickly. “Oliver just worries about everything. Thanks for agreeing to help us. We’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget. We’ll be at your house before six.”
“I’ll be there,” Digby replied. “And thanks again for the candy.”
Archer led everyone back downstairs, not liking this idea anymore. He had no intention of sending his friends into Mr. Birthwhistle’s house without him.
“I’d like to go with you,” Kana said. “Especially since you can’t, Archer.”
“Thanks, Kana. But I’m not staying home. I’m going, too.”
“You can’t come, Archer,” Adélaïde insisted. “You heard Digby. He won’t give us the key if you’re there. So unless there’s some way for you to be there without actually being there, you’ll—” She paused, peering out DuttonLick’s door and across the street at her father’s café. “Actually, I think there is a way for you to be there without actually being there. We could use a radio. Amaury has lots of equipment. It’s his hobby.”
“I have a radio in the map room,” Archer said, perking up as they stepped outside. “I used it once. Someone tried to sell me something. I’m not sure exactly how it works.”
“Let’s ask Amaury,” Adélaïde said. “I’m sure he’ll show us. Do you want to come to the café, Kana? Kana?”
Kana was standing perfectly still, staring up at the clouds.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” she said. “It won’t be so easy after the blizzard.”
“Blizzard?” Archer repeated. He tilted his head and gazed up at the clouds. “How do you know there’s going to be a blizzard?”
“I’m not exactly sure. But I can feel it. Can’t you?”
The only thing Archer felt was concern. Letting Kana wander the icy streets of Rosewood on her own seemed like a bad idea.
“I’ll be fine.” Kana giggled. “But thank you for your concern.”
“Why are we letting her join us?” Oliver whispered as they left Kana, who was still staring at the sky. “She’s completely cracked.”
“No, she’s not, Oliver,” Adélaïde objected. “She’s intuitive. You’re only being a rotten eggplant because she told you something you didn’t want to hear.”
“How intuitive can she be?” Oliver asked. “She lived next door to Mr. Birthwhistle and had no idea what he tried to do. You only like her because she’s as flaky as fresh croissant. And when there’s no blizzard, you’ll know I’m right.”
Adélaïde paused at the café door. “But if there is a blizzard, you’re going to apologize to her.” She stuck out her hand. “Deal?”
Oliver confidently shook it. “Deal.”
♦ AMAURY THE EXHAUSTED ♦
Belmont Café brimmed with patrons, but aside from clinking spoons and slurps, it was silent. Everyone was hidden
behind a newspaper. The Rosewood Chronicle was everywhere. Archer glanced at the newspaper rack. A large pile of Doldrums Press papers sat untouched.
“That’s why my parents cut my allowance,” Oliver explained as they followed Adélaïde to the bar. “My father’s readers aren’t happy he took your grandparents’ side. He lost a bunch of subscribers when he ran the true iceberg story. He’s losing more every day. Everyone wants to read the Chronicle. They think it’s more exciting. Don’t tell your grandparents. My father said they have enough to worry about.”
Archer felt both terrible and grateful. That explained why Mr. and Mrs. Glub were so distracted. “I’m sorry your family got dragged into this,” he said, sitting on a barstool.
“Don’t be. My father’s not sorry. He said the Chronicle is like candy—that eventually, too much of it will make people sick.” Oliver stared around the café. “I hope that happens sooner than later.”
Amaury was leaning against the bar with his eyelids migrating south. They reversed course when he noticed Adélaïde. “Hot chocolates?” he asked over a yawn.
“Only if it’s not too much trouble,” she replied.
“For you it’s never trouble.” Amaury went to the hot chocolate machine and pulled levers left and right. Steam shot from valves, the machine groaned, and then, thick, velvety chocolate flowed from three nozzles into three cups. Amaury slid the cups down the bar.
“Your hot chocolate is the best, Amaury,” Oliver said, catching his cup and taking a gulp.
“If you want the best, you must use the best,” Amaury replied. “We had DuttonLick make us a special chocolate. Very rich. Melts to perfection.”
“I know you’re busy,” Adélaïde said, watching Amaury wipe the nozzles clean with a wet rag. “But were wondering if you had a moment to teach us about radios.”
Amaury yawned again. “I’d be happy to,” he said. “Why the sudden interest?”
“There’s a project we’re working on,” Archer explained.
“That Button Factory hasn’t got you working over the break, have they?”
“No,” Oliver said. “It’s extracurricular.”
Amaury glanced around at the customers still buried in newspapers. “We’d best do it before the next wave arrives.”
The back room of Belmont Café was crowded with bags of coffee beans and supplies, worn-out espresso machines, and extra barstools. In the corner, near a window, were a chair and a desk with Amaury’s radio equipment on it. Amaury collapsed into the chair, and Archer thought he might fall asleep on the spot.
“I’m going to help you today,” Adélaïde said, placing her hand on Amaury’s shoulder. “And I promise I’ll talk to my father.”
“Thank you, Adie.” Amaury sat up straight and cracked his knuckles. “Now, the first thing you need to know about radios is—”
“We were actually wondering if you had one that’s portable?” Archer asked.
With some difficulty, Amaury bent down below the desk and lifted what looked to be a small metal box with two straps. “This fellow is,” he said, sitting it on his lap. “Not sure why I bought it, to tell you the truth. But they’re not the easiest to come by. It works the same as a desk radio, except it’s hand powered.”
Amaury clicked a button, and a handle flipped down on one side. “This is the crank,” he said, spinning it rapidly. “If you need the radio powered for a long time, you’ll have to spend a good while charging it.” After two minutes, he released the crank. “That’ll do for the demonstration.”
Amaury unlatched the back panel to reveal the radio. There was a microphone tucked to side and a pair of headphones hanging from a hook. Amaury proceeded to explain everything there was to know about radios. It was more in-depth than any of them had anticipated. Archer’s hand kept cramping, trying to write everything down. He was almost certain he heard Oliver snoring at one point.
“Now in order to communicate between two different radios,” Amaury said, “you’ll have to pair them using a frequency number.”
Amaury adjusted a dial on the portable radio, setting the frequency to his desk radio, and then strapped the radio to Adélaïde’s back. He handed her the microphone and headphones and instructed her to go to the far wall. Archer sat down at the desk, and Amaury told him to say something into the microphone.
“Hello?”
“Bonjour?”
It worked perfectly. And they went on talking. Amaury laughed, clearly enjoying their interest in his hobby, but his laugh trailed off when a bell jingled at the front of the shop.
“Would you mind if we borrowed this radio tomorrow?” Adélaïde asked, returning to the desk.
“It’s yours whenever you’d like, Adie,” Amaury said, staring at the radios as though they were a long-lost love. “I haven’t had time to use these in ages.”
The bell rang again. Amaury lumbered out with the eagerness of a pig headed for slaughter.
“I’ll be right there to help,” Adélaïde called. “Oliver, Archer, help me get this thing off.”
♦ COUGHING COFFEE ♦
Adélaïde grabbed her uniform from a peg on the wall and stepped behind a mountain of Belmont Coffee boxes to change. She reemerged in a pale blue dress, and had a yellow apron with the words BELMONT CAFÉ embroidered on it tied round her waist with a deep blue ribbon. Adélaïde’s father had it made especially for her, and even though she looked very pretty, Archer and Oliver tried their best not to laugh.
“What?” she asked, flushing as she glanced down at herself.
“I’d like three coffees, dearie,” Oliver replied, imitating a fussy customer. “The first I’d like with extra cream, and the second with three and half tablespoons of sugar. The third I’d like black. Did you get all that or would you like me to write—”
Adélaïde flicked a stray espresso bean from atop a box. It shot straight into Oliver’s throat. Oliver coughed, but the bean was lodged. Archer smacked his back until it finally popped out.
“And you say I’m the rotten eggplant!” Oliver said, rubbing his throat. “I was only teasing you. You look nice.”
“Thank you, dearie.”
Adélaïde gave them an abrupt curtsy and made for the front of the café. Archer and Oliver watched her greet a customer with smile far more pleasant than the one she’d left them with.
“One-legged French girls,” Oliver grumbled.
“Are you sure you want to be in charge of this plan?” Archer asked, grinning.
“Of course,” Oliver replied, trying to sound self-assured. “But I might allow her to think she’s in charge.”
The following afternoon, Archer and Oliver went to Adélaïde’s house to finalize the plan. Adélaïde and Kana answered the door together. Both were laughing and went on laughing as they walked down the hall.
“Were they talking about us?” Oliver whispered, kicking off his boots.
“I think so. But we were talking about them, too.”
“I was just trying to say I think it’s a little strange that Kana wants to help us. We barely know her. And I’m not sure she will help. She might do something strange and get us caught.”
“She’s already been helpful,” Archer said, following Oliver down the hall. “She’s the one who knows the Figs. I don’t think Digby would give us the key without her.”
Archer had never been inside Adélaïde’s house before, but as they stepped into the large sitting room, it was quickly apparent Mr. Belmont wasn’t much of a decorator. In the center of the room was a simple rug with two elegant couches and two armchairs positioned around an old table. Everything was nice. But that was it. No pictures, no plants, and no knickknacks of any kind.
Archer and Oliver sat down on the couch opposite Kana and Adélaïde. Adélaïde’s beagle, Fritz, was resting his head on Kana’s lap, and Kana was scratching his ears.
“Here’s my radio’s frequency number,” Archer said, tearing a page from his journal and sliding it across the table to Adélaïde. “But I’m
still not comfortable with this.”
In a few short hours, Oliver, Adélaïde, and Kana would be breaking into the Birthwhistles’ house to help his grandparents.
“We’ll be fine,” Adélaïde assured him. “As long as we get there before Mr. Birthwhistle and Mr. Mullfort arrive.”
“Deangor Street is about a ten-minute walk from here,” Kana said, now rubbing Fritz’s belly.
“I told Archer we should hide in Mr. Birthwhistle’s office,” Oliver said. “That’s the most likely place they’d go. My father’s office is on the second floor of our house.”
“So is mine’s,” Archer added.
“What happens if Mr. Birthwhistle gives Mr. Mullfort these communications you talked about?” Kana asked. “You want those?”
“We’re not sure what they are,” Archer explained. “But if they have something to do with the iceberg, we need to get them. You’ll have to follow Mr. Mullfort when he leaves, and I’ll meet you wherever he’s going.”
“You were his neighbor, Kana,” Oliver said, leaning forward hopefully. “Do you know anything else about Mr. Birthwhistle that might help us?”
Kana thought it over for a long while, but Oliver’s hope became despair when all she said was “He has a beard.”
CHAPTER
TEN
♦ OVER THE GARDEN WALL ♦
Archer slipped into the map room and locked the door behind him. He sat in front of the radio, opened his journal, set the dial to Adélaïde’s frequency, placed the microphone before him, and secured the headphones. He then anxiously tapped his pen on the desk, waiting for the static to cut.
ADÉLAÏDE: It’s on. I set it to Archer’s frequency. Are the straps tight? It shouldn’t be loose.
OLIVER: Stop jerking them. It’s tight enough.
ADÉLAÏDE: All right. Here, put the headphones on. Hold the microphone close to your mouth. See if Archer’s there.
OLIVER: HELLO? ARCHER? CAN YOU HEAR—
Archer threw the headphones off. His ears were thumping, and even with the headphones at arm’s length, he could hear Oliver loud and clear.
OLIVER: ARCHER? ARE YOU THERE, ARCHER? THIS IS OLIVER. OLIVER GLUB. HELLO? ARCHER?
The Doldrums and the Helmsley Curse Page 12