by Mac Barnett
“What?” Cy said.
Steve threw the Jolly Rancher across the car’s hood. Cy looked surprised. He didn’t move. The Jolly Rancher bounced off his shirt and landed on the floor.
“Careful, guey!” Chuy said. “You could hit the car!”
Cy scowled.
Steve turned back toward Dana. “He was supposed to catch it,” he whispered.
When he turned back around, Cy was looking at the cargo door. He took out a notebook much like Steve’s, opened it, and wrote down some notes.
He wrote with his left hand!
CHAPTER XLIV
THE HOUND WITH TWO TAILS
BACK IN THE CORRIDOR Steve said, “See?”
“Yeah,” Dana said. “That’s pretty weird.”
Steve was triumphant.
“Still,” Dana said, “it could be just a coincidence.”
“Come on. Do you know what percentage of the population is left-handed?”
“No. What?”
“Like one percent,” Steve said.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Okay, but it is true.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read it in a magazine.”
“What magazine?”
“I don’t know. National Geographic.”
Dana waved dismissively.
“Anyway, it’s a big clue.”
“It’s a clue,” Dana said. “I don’t know how big it is. I mean, this guy is a private detective.”
“So what?” Steve said. His throat caught a little. “Look, I’m not sure I trust private detectives a whole lot.”
“But you are one.”
“Right, but look at what happened with Bart.”
“He was just a writer.”
“He understood the sleuth’s mind better than anyone! All I’m saying is, just because someone is a private detective doesn’t mean they’re a great person. Even the best detective can go bad.”
“Okay. Okay. Calm down. So what do you want to do?”
Steve leaned in and talked low and fast. “The big question is, where does Cy keep going? He keeps leaving the Vanderdraaks’ car. I have a feeling that’s the key to this whole case. Like I said, maybe he has an inside man on the train. Or maybe one of those car thieves is disguised as a normal passenger. But we need to figure out what he’s up to.”
“How do we do that?” Dana asked.
“We tail him.”
“Don’t you think he’ll notice? He’s a detective, and the train is pretty small.”
Steve pulled out The Bailey Brothers’ Detective Handbook, which he’d stuck in the waistband of his cargo shorts. He showed Dana the section on “Surveillance.”
Shawn and Kevin always say, “When you’re tailing a crook, it’s neat to be discreet!” To make sure your target doesn’t catch on to you, always walk with a newspaper in front of your face. That way if the suspect looks back, he won’t suspect a thing! He’ll just think you’re another person walking around and reading the newspaper! (Watch out for parking meters and steep curbs!)
But believe it or not, even the newspaper trick may not be enough to avoid the canniest crooks. If you’re tailing a savvy baddie, grab a chum and employ the technique known as the Hound with Two Tails. Here’s how it works: One sleuth follows the goon, while another follows the follower. If the followed discovers the follower, the follower’s follower now follows the followed, and the original follower follows the follower’s follower, who is now simply the follower! You follow?
“Huh?” Dana said.
“I know. It’s a little complicated. But basically, I’m going to tail Cy, and then you tail me. And if he sees me, we switch.”
“But he’ll recognize either of us.”
“Yeah, but the Hound with Two Tails has another advantage. You’re like backup for me. If I get in any trouble with Cy, then you can come in and save me.”
“Save you how?”
“Kayo him!”
Dana winced.
“You’ll have the element of surprise,” Steve said.
“I don’t know,” Dana said, but Steve knew his chum was in.
CHAPTER XLV
WATCHING THE DETECTIVE
THE BOYS DIDN’T HAVE TO WAIT LONG. Soon after they finished their conversation in the hall, when they were pouring themselves glasses of watermelon juice in the kitchen, Cy passed by, muttering to himself.
“Give me a head start and then follow,” Steve said. He took a gulp from his glass and exited the kitchen.
“Hey, Steve!” Claire put her book down when Steve entered the observation room. “I wanted to ask you—”
“Where’s your uncle?” Steve said.
“Oh. Um, he just left. Do you know if—”
“I’ve got to go check in with Rick,” Steve said. “He’s probably worried about me. I’ll talk to you later.”
Steve left the compartment. When he got to the front of the car, he pushed the button on the wall. The secret panel opened. He walked into the next car.
Cy Marriner was at the front, about to exit through its forward doors. Steve pretended to fiddle with some luggage up on the rack, keeping it really natural. As soon as Cy was through the doors, Steve took off after him.
Steve followed Cy up through the next three cars, past the barking dog and the scarf-necked man, past the passengers napping and typing. Cy was moving fast—he exited through the front of the car. Steve hurried up, almost running down the aisle. He ran straight into an arm that came down across the aisle like a level at a railroad crossing.
Great. It was Rick.
“Whoa, Seabiscuit,” Rick said.
“Hey, Rick,” Steve said.
“Don’t ‘hey Rick’ me,” said Rick. “Where have you been? Huh? I wake up and you and Dana are gone. Are you trying to get me killed by your mom? Are you? Where have you been?”
“I told you,” Steve said. “We were hanging out with this girl a few cars back. We kept checking on you but you were still asleep.”
“Wrong,” Rick said. “Wrong. I just looked up and down this whole train—I didn’t see you anywhere. Now do you want to tell me how you disappeared?”
“Did you check the bathrooms?” Steve asked.
“Oh,” said Rick. “No.”
“There you go,” Steve said.
“Wait, all three of you were in different bathrooms at the same time?”
“I don’t really feel comfortable talking to you about this, Rick,” Steve said.
“Right. Okay. It’s just … ,” Rick said. “With the police back at the station and … you know, you being a ‘detective,’ well, I thought maybe there was a mystery going on or something. Like a case.”
Steve laughed. “No way, Rick. We’ve just been hanging out.”
“Right.” Rick brightened. “Hanging out. Wait. Where’s Dana?”
“Back there.” Steve motioned to the rear of the car. “He’s coming up to the café car with me.”
“Cool, cool,” said Rick. “Just don’t disappear again!” he said, wagging his finger jokingly.
“Okay,” said Steve, and headed toward the business-class car.
By now Cy had gotten way ahead. Luckily, it was a train. There was only one direction he could go. Steve rushed through business class. Maybe Cy was meeting his confederate in the café car. The door at the front of business class whooshed open.
There, crouched in the vestibule between business class and the café car, was Cy Marriner. He stood and grabbed Steve by the shirt, shoving him against the wall. The doors closed behind Steve.
CHAPTER XLVI
THREATS
“WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?” Cy asked.
Steve was silent. Dana would be arriving soon. That would put an end to this little interrogation. Until then Steve would just let Cy do the talking and see if he ended up incriminating himself.
“I said, why are you following me? Huh?” Cy gave a little laugh. “You think you’re onto something, don
’t you? You think you know my secret? You don’t know anything. You don’t know anything about me. Look me in the eye. That little trick back there with the Jolly Rancher? You think that proves anything? You got something to prove? You won’t prove nothing, okay? And I won’t tolerate another detective snooping around, trying to—why do you keep looking at those doors?”
Steve looked Cy in the eye again. Where was Dana? Steve was getting anxious.
Cy broke into a grin.
“Where’s your little buddy?” Cy asked. “He following you? You guys pulling a Hound with Two Tails?”
Oh no.
“He coming through those doors? Is that why you keep looking over? It is, isn’t it?”
Cy pinned Steve against the wall of the vestibule with his left hand and pivoted to face the door.
Steve had to figure out a way to warn Dana.
Five seconds later the door opened. Cy yanked a surprised Dana by the arm and pulled him into the vestibule.
“We’ve been expecting you,” Cy said to Dana. Dana looked at Steve. Steve looked at Cy. Cy looked both boys up and down.
“Well, here we are again. You two are a couple of real ace sleuths,” he said. “Stay away from me. And the Vanderdraaks. And Claire. I don’t want to see you again.”
He released the boys and walked back into business class.
CHAPTER XLVII
CLAIRE RETURNS
STEVE AND DANA sat in coach class, in their original seats, deliberating about how to proceed with the case. Or, actually, Steve deliberated, while Dana read Wizards’ Worlds. Rick knit.
“We’ve got to get some more evidence and warn the Vanderdraaks,” Steve said quietly, so Rick wouldn’t overhear him.
Dana read.
“Come on, Dana. The case is heating up!”
Dana read.
“Let’s do this!”
Dana snapped his book shut and whispered fiercely back at Steve. “Did you have fun with Cy up there? I didn’t. Do you enjoy being threatened and jerked around? Because I don’t. I don’t care whether that guy is a car thief or a detective or what. It’s not our problem. I don’t care if some rich guy’s car gets stolen, and neither should you. You’re not even getting paid to be on this case. You’re just showing off.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Steve’s ears felt hot. “No.”
“Claire.”
“Wrong!” Steve shouted. This attracted Rick’s attention.
“What are you guys talking about over there?”
“Nothing,” Steve said.
“Nothing, huh? How’s that girl, Steve?” Rick asked.
“What girl?” Steve said.
“Ooooohh,” said Rick.
Dana laughed.
Just then Claire Marriner came walking up the aisle, hauling Steve’s suitcase.
“Hey, Steve,” she said. “Hey, Dana.”
“Hey, Claire,” said Steve.
“My uncle said you guys weren’t coming back to our car again, so I brought you your suitcase.”
Rick leaned over his armrest. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Steve?”
“Claire, this is Rick.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Claire,” Rick said.
Claire beamed. She looked at Steve.
“He hasn’t,” Steve said.
Dana elbowed Steve in the ribs.
This was ridiculous. Steve needed to talk to Claire alone.
“Hey, Claire,” Steve said casually, “want to get something from the café car?”
Steve ignored Rick’s enthusiastic wink.
Claire cast a nervous glance backward before saying, “Sure.”
“Ta-ta, kids,” Rick said, smiling knowingly.
Ta-ta.
Who said ‘ta-ta’?
Rick.
CHAPTER XLVIII
FIGHT!
STEVE AND CLAIRE sat across from each other at a table, holding paper cups full of hot chocolate.
“I’m so glad to get out of that car,” Claire said.
“Really?” Steve said. “I kind of like it.”
Claire made a sour face. “It’s oppressive. Super rich people are like a different species. Mr. Vanderdraak is such a snob. The way he talks: ‘Children, look at my automobile’”—Claire did a pretty good Mr. Vanderdraak impression—“and what kind of first name is J., anyway? And Mrs. Vanderdraak is always playing that cello so badly—”
“Really? She’s bad?”
“Well, she’s not very good.”
“Do you play the cello?”
“No. Piano.”
Steve decided he’d like to hear her play some time, and then decided not to tell her that.
“I guess you’re right,” Steve said. He hadn’t picked up on any of this back there.
“Anyway, it’s good to be up here for a while. You know, my uncle told me not to hang out with you anymore. He doesn’t know I brought you your suitcase.”
“Well, that’s—”
“He was so angry at me for going up on top of the train. I guess he blames you for that.” Claire paused for a second. “He has a point.”
“Also he—”
“But I meant to tell you that I thought it was really brave what you did. I mean, it was so scary up there, right? It was fun, but scary. And you were, like, running around, chasing that guy.”
“Yeah.”
“What were you going to do when you found him?”
“I don’t know,” Steve said. “I guess I was lucky the tunnel came. Oh, and, um, thanks for pointing out that tunnel and everything. That was really great.”
Claire turned pink. “You’re welcome.”
“But Claire,” Steve said. “I have something I want to tell you.” Steve’s tongue felt fat, and it was tripping up his words.
“Yes?” Claire asked.
“I think your uncle is trying to steal Mr. Vander-draak’s car.”
Claire’s face went from red to white. “What?”
“Yeah, I think he’s the car thief. Or one of them.”
“That’s crazy.”
“No, I’m serious.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Well, he’s left-handed, first of all. And he’d be like an inside man. He’s the only person whose whereabouts are unknown when we were on top of the train. It just makes sense.”
Claire pushed her chair back. “No, Steve, it does not make sense. I know my uncle, okay? He raised me. We’re basically each other’s only family. He’s not perfect, but he’s not a criminal.”
“He raised you?” Steve said. “What happened to your parents?”
“They got into a car accident when I was—look, I don’t even want to talk to you about this, okay?”
Steve didn’t know what to say. This was not going as planned. He was hoping Claire would be impressed with his sleuthing and help spy on her uncle. “Fine,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be so mad.”
“Of course you didn’t! You just thought about yourself and your case.” Claire stood up. “No wonder you and my uncle don’t get along. You’re so similar. Good-bye, Steve Brixton.” She stormed out of the café car. Her hot chocolate was still on the table.
Steve reeled. He felt terrible. And shocked. It was like in Bailey Brothers #43: The Clue of the Curse of the Inca Blade, when Shawn and Kevin opened the door to their hotel room and it was full of jaguars. How was Steve supposed to know Claire would react like that? Cissie Merritt and Hannah Fenway never yelled at the Bailey Brothers. Still, Claire was more interesting than either of those two. Although it could be so hard to talk to her. Plus Steve didn’t even know whether he’d ever see Claire again. She’d said his first and last name when she said good-bye. That was never a good sign. And anyway, Steve didn’t even know whether he wanted to see Claire again. In fact he probably didn’t.
He sighed.
“Now what?” he asked the abandoned cup across the table.
CHAPT
ER XLIX
RENDEZVOUS AT UNION STATION
STEVE SPENT THE REST OF THE TRIP looking out the window while Dana read and Rick knit. It was a relief to not be on the case anymore, to not have to think about what he was going to say to Claire. Or at least that was what he told himself. By the time the train came to a lurching halt in San Diego’s Union Station, Steve had gotten good at ignoring the itching at the edges of his brain.
They stepped down off the train and into the late-afternoon heat. The station looked like an old mission, with white walls and red-tiled rooftops. Twin golden spires glinted atop two towers, right next to a blue and white sign that said, confusingly, SANTA FE. Steve followed Rick past a row of palm trees, under a tall arch, and into the station.
The station hall was one long room with mosaic walls and long wooden benches. The passengers from the Sunset Coastliner milled about, buying snacks, hugging family members, or looking lost. People waiting to catch trains watched the new arrivals or lay with their heads resting on big backpacks.
Rick was over at the information desk, talking with an annoyed-looking woman while holding a cell phone up to his ear. He was trying to get walking directions to the hotel.
Steve and Dana waited under a sign that said TO TRAINS. Dana had his book out. Steve sat on his suitcase.
Suddenly Steve stood.
“Dana. Dana! Look at that.”
Cy Marriner was standing by a bank of pay phones, talking to another man. It was the man with the scarf, only now he wasn’t wearing a scarf. His bald head reflected light from a chandelier overhead.
“So?” Dana said.
“Imagine that guy with a beard and mustache and a full head of hair.”
Dana shuffled a few steps to his left so he could see past a family posing for a photograph. “Okay. What about him?”
“That’s the car thief!”
“Hmm,” Dana said. “Maybe.”
The two men exchanged a couple sentences and then walked in opposite directions. Cy went over to the station’s restaurant. The bald man was coming for Steve and Dana.