The Great Shelby Holmes and the Coldest Case

by Elizabeth Eulberg

“Sounds like your parents are fun.”

  “That could be one word to describe them. I have others.” Shelby’s nose scrunched up. Mom and I had been to the Holmeses’ a few times for dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes liked to entertain, while Shelby preferred to be locked in a room reading or studying. Most people were a nuisance to her. Her brother, Michael, felt the same way about guests. So yeah, they were a barrel of joy during our dinners.

  “What about—” Dad stopped talking as we rounded the corner to Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Boulevard as Mom was coming up the street. They hadn’t seen each other since he arrived yesterday. They somehow kept missing one another. Mom made it seem like an accident, but I could tell she didn’t want to see him.

  It took Mom a few more moments to realize we were approaching. I could hardly breathe as I waited for her to see Dad. They’d spoken on the phone a few times, but it was always about me. And when we first moved here, it was mostly Mom yelling at Dad for not calling when he said he would.

  Mom finally looked up and froze. A look of sadness flashed on her face before she forced a smile, which I knew was only for my benefit.

  “Hello, John and Shelby . . . ​Martin.” She gave a little nod.

  “Hey, Janice,” Dad replied. He could hardly look at her.

  This was awful.

  And really, really uncomfortable.

  Shelby looked over at me, and I don’t know what I did or what she saw in my face, but whatever it was, I was grateful for it.

  “We really have to move along,” Shelby said as she tapped her watch. “Dr. Watson, I’m afraid that we’re running late for a very important appointment. No dillydallying, gentlemen.”

  Shelby took Dad by the elbow. “Did Watson ever tell you about the time I found the culprit who had robbed Sal’s? It was one of my finest moments.”

  Shelby dragged Dad down the block, while he kept looking back at Mom.

  “Have fun,” Mom said to me. She bent down to kiss my forehead. “Good luck skating. And stay safe.”

  She walked back toward our apartment without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Dad.

  So that was that.

  My parents couldn’t even be on the same sidewalk. It stung to know that there was no way they’d ever get back together.

  I know, I know. We lived in different states. They’ve been separated for almost a year, but now that Dad was here, I could fool myself into thinking that things were back to normal. I had my time with him. I had my time with Mom.

  But I was never going to have my time together with them both again. Just the three of us. Like a family.

  It was time.

  Granted, I wished that time wasn’t five o’clock in the morning. Nobody should be up that early. Nobody.

  I had a piece of peanut butter toast in my mouth and an apple in my jacket pocket as I met Shelby outside our apartment building. The sky was dark, like it was midnight.

  As much as it hurt to realize my parents were incapable of being around each other, I had to concentrate on the case.

  It was one of the few things I could control.

  “Are you seriously eating candy right now?” I asked Shelby, who had chocolate smeared on her chin.

  “Breakfast of champions,” she replied. “Is your dad coming?”

  “Not when he found out what time.” Because my dad was sane. And asleep. I was going to see him after school when the sun was out.

  As we turned on Lenox to head to the subway, I was surprised by the cars on the street. I guess it was true: New York was a city that never slept.

  Oh, how I wanted to go back to sleep.

  I wasn’t the only one. Unlike during our visit on Friday, the Sky Rink was currently deserted.

  Because why on earth would anything be open this early in the morning?

  Even though the reception area was dark, as we headed toward the rink I wished I had brought sunglasses. It was bright. The overhead fluorescent lights lit up the white ice.

  It was the first time I was able to properly see Shelby. Besides having her hair tamed up in a bun like during our meeting with Jordan, she had something on her face that made her skin sparkle.

  “Glitter,” Shelby replied as she stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Sometimes playing a part can be quite a humiliating affair.”

  This from the girl who wanted me to wear red sequins?

  “Okay, Julian,” Shelby said in her sweet Roberta voice. “I’ll meet you on the ice.” She gestured to the boys’ locker room.

  Now a locker room was somewhere I felt comfortable. I walked in and found a locker to store my book bag (since we had to go to school after) and shoes. I put my skates on and felt pretty good that I stayed on my feet.

  The door to the locker room opened and a tall white guy a few years older than me with blond hair and blue eyes walked in. It was Douglas. He had on black spandex leggings. (This “sport.” I mean, really?)

  “Hello.” He extended his hand. “You must be part of the new pairs team working with Tatiana.”

  “Yes, I’m Jo—Julian. Julian Law.” Phew. That was close. I couldn’t believe I almost blew my cover after two minutes.

  “I’m Douglas. My partner and I work with Sergi.”

  “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

  Okay, I had to admit, I was just a tad awestruck. This dude, despite his current outfit, was strong. The lifts he did and his jumps were kind of unbelievable.

  I followed Douglas out to the two rinks.

  “Have a good skate,” Douglas said before he went out on the rink to the left.

  But to say that he was skating was an understatement. Douglas was practically flying across the ice. He was skating backward, in circles, and then jumped and landed like he was floating. Sergi was skating near him and barking commands. Then, a tiny white girl with black hair up in a fancy bun joined him. He picked her up and held her over his head like she weighed nothing.

  We were in so much trouble. No way anybody would believe Shelby and I were pairs skaters. No way.

  I looked over to my right and it took me a second to recognize Shelby. She had on white tights with a purple skirt and wrapped sweater. She looked like a ballerina.

  I clobbered over to her in my skates. “I think we should pretend one of us is injured,” I reasoned with her. “I’ll volunteer to sit out.”

  Shelby ignored my suggestion. (Hey, it was worth a shot.)

  I looked over to where Jordan and Tatiana were in a huddle on the ice. Then I glanced back at Sergi’s rink.

  It was all so . . . white.

  But before I could say anything to Shelby, another skater entered Sergi’s rink. She had big brown eyes and her hair was in twists that were gathered in a giant bun on top of her head. She looked to be around my age. She skated with such speed and grace. With a dimpled smile on her face, she looked like she loved every moment on the ice. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She then started twirling in a circle so fast, I almost got dizzy watching her.

  “You might want to wipe the drool off your face,” Shelby said as she pretended to gag. “Try to focus, Julian.”

  Whatever. I was only studying her. Wasn’t that what I was supposed to do? I wasn’t drooling. I mean, the skater was pretty impressive. Strong. Confident. Okay, okay, and like, yeah, maybe she was pretty or, you know, whatever.

  “Excuse me!” a voice called out from behind us.

  Shelby and I turned around to see a white woman with fuzzy lavender earmuffs holding up a giant video recorder. (Hadn’t she heard of a camera phone?) “Who are you and what are you doing here? This is a closed practice.”

  She did not look happy to see us. Although who could really be happy at this hour?

  “What are your names? Who are you spying for?” she continued her interrogation, although she wasn’t giving us a chance to answer.

  Which was good because I was about to panic. This woman already knew we were up to something. Shelby, as always, kept her cool.

  “I’m Roberta Downey and t
his is my partner, Julian Law. We’re new to Tatiana and just moved from outside Syracuse. We were simply admiring your daughter—”

  “Sergi!” the older woman called out over Shelby. “I don’t want this competition watching Belle and Douglas skate.”

  Hmm . . . ​this woman was wigging out. Why? Possible suspect?

  “Mrs. Booth.” Tatiana approached us, as did every other skater in the rink. “These new skaters. I told you they come. They skate, but not like Belle and Douglas. No competition.”

  (“No competition” was probably the biggest understatement of the millennium.)

  “Mom, let them skate,” the tiny girl who was skating with Douglas, who I deduced was Belle, said in a soft voice. I should’ve known they were mother and daughter. They were practically dressed as twins. Both were wearing lavender head to toe. Belle was in a skating outfit with sequins (seriously, what was with this sport and sequins?). Her mom had a puffy lavender jacket with matching leggings. Her hair was up in the same fancy bun.

  “I’ve never heard of these people,” said Mrs. Booth.

  Jordan, who had been skating near the side, finally stopped. “Mrs. Booth, I met with them on Friday. They’re a very sweet pair.”

  “Oh well, if you know them, Jordan,” Mrs. Booth replied with a little flutter, like she was starstruck.

  “Moooom,” Belle groaned, clearly embarrassed by what was happening.

  “Do not give them a second look, darling.” Mrs. Booth held up her recorder. “Back to skating. We have a competition to win on Saturday.”

  “Mom—” Belle tried to get a word in, but her mom continued to talk over her.

  “Skate, not talk.” Mrs. Booth pointed toward the ice. “You can talk after you get first place.”

  Belle narrowed her green eyes at her mom before she skated off. Sergi studied us for a few moments before he turned back to Douglas and Belle.

  The other girl was still staring at us.

  “Oh, um, hi—” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m—”

  “Julian,” the girl said with a laugh. “And you’re Roberta. I’m Aisha. Nice to meet you.” She stole a glance at Belle’s mom before whispering, “You’ll get used to Mrs. Booth. She can be a bit . . . intense.”

  “Duly noted,” Shelby replied with a nod.

  “Yeah, ah . . .”

  What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I speak? I’ve talked to a ton of girls before. I mean not a ton or anything, but this was getting embarrassing.

  Besides, this was Aisha, who Jordan didn’t have anything “great” to say about.

  “See you around,” Aisha replied with a small wave as she went back to center ice.

  “Very smooth, Julian,” Shelby snorted.

  I glared at Shelby. She wasn’t making any of this easier on me. And it wasn’t like I was doing something weird or anything.

  Whatever.

  “Something’s wrong,” Shelby stated as she motioned with her jaw to Jordan. Jordan was speeding up again, but before she even took off for a jump, she stopped. Tatiana skated next to her and put her arm around her. The two of them skated slowly around the rink, arm and arm.

  “This is good, Watson,” Shelby remarked. “This means she got another message.”

  It didn’t look like it was good for Jordan.

  Tatiana skated over to us while Jordan spun in the middle of the rink.

  “Roberta and Julian,” Tatiana said slowly to ensure she got our aliases right this time. “Today, no skating. Orientation of rink.”

  Thank you!

  “Jordan,” Tatiana called out, “Practice components of short program. I show them around.”

  Shelby and I followed Tatiana toward the coach’s office. Once we were out of earshot, Shelby said, “When did she get the new message?”

  Tatiana paused before unlocking the door. “How you know this?”

  “It seemed rather obvious with her skating.”

  Tatiana’s shoulders sagged. “She upset all morning. Distracted. I went in bag and found this.”

  She handed us a crumpled piece of paper with another cipher on it:

  Shelby pulled the old cipher out of the boot of her skate and began to compare the two. Her eyes darted back and forth. “This might help us crack it.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Do you see that in the new one, there’s one character by itself.” Shelby pointed at the lone figure. “So we may know what A or I is.”

  “It could be a number,” I added.

  Shelby grimaced. “Yes, it could. Regardless, I’ll work on it at lunch. I wish we had more ciphers to work with.”

  “No more,” Tatiana said with a wave of her hands. “Jordan too upset.”

  “But don’t you want to know what this person is saying to her?”

  “Yes, but my Jordan. I want it to stop. I want her back to herself.”

  “The only way that can happen is by cracking this cipher. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that why you came to us?”

  Tatiana nodded. “Yes. But, ticktock. We have no time. Regionals in five days. Five.”

  I wasn’t sure how we were going to be able to figure this cipher out in five days. Or ever.

  Although I knew to never underestimate Shelby. She’d find a way.

  But it wasn’t going to be enough to decode it. We had to find out who was leaving it. It was clear the ciphers were pretty short. Only a few words. I doubted the person was signing them.

  I kept thinking about Belle’s mom being so overprotective. “Tatiana, why was Mrs. Booth upset we’re here?”

  “She very insecure,” Tatiana replied. “Belle is Douglas’s third partner since Jordan.”

  Three partners in less than a year? That seemed like a lot.

  “Who is Jordan’s prime competition?” I asked.

  “Aisha,” Tatiana replied. “They always first and second. Jordan is first sometimes, sometimes Aisha.”

  Shelby raised her eyebrow at me.

  But, hold on, maybe that’s why Jordan didn’t like Aisha, because they’re rivals. Aisha seemed all right to me.

  “I need to go to Jordan,” Tatiana said. “But take your time. And lock up.”

  Shelby nodded as she studied the ciphers some more.

  Okay, so let me make sure I had this straight: Jordan used to skate with Douglas, who now had a partner with a jealous mom. Sergi used to coach Jordan, but now Jordan was coached by Sergi’s ex-wife. Aisha, who was Jordan’s main competition, was also coached by Sergi.

  Yikes. This was a pretty crazy web of people.

  “Shelby,” I asked although I felt I already knew what the answer would be, “who’s our main suspect?”

  Shelby looked up from the ciphers and smirked. “All of them.”

  Yep, that’s what I thought.

  I was exhausted. I was also totally turned around.

  The Empire State Building had always been downtown from me in Harlem. But now it was uptown.

  As much as it took a few minutes to get my bearings, I had to admit: this view was amazing. Yeah, I still was in awe of Manhattan, but I think what made it even better was the person I was with.

  “Sure is something, huh?” Dad said as he took in the skyline.

  He met up with me after school and took me downtown to these really cool elevated train tracks that ran along the west side of the city. I guess they used to be abandoned, but were turned into a park a few years ago. Shelby put it on a list of places for Dad to take me. Of course, he didn’t ask her for a list, but we were both happy to have it.

  Tomorrow we were going to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge to get pizza. Shelby was very specific about which pizza place we should go to. I had thought pizza was pizza, but I wasn’t about to question Shelby.

  Even though I was functioning on little sleep, I wasn’t too tired when I was with Dad. I was happy.

  Walking around these old train tracks reminded me of when I was little. I was obsessed with cars and trucks, but especially trains.
Dad used to take me to train tracks near our old post in Texas. I must’ve been five or six, and we’d sit there and count each trailer. One time there was this huge train that had exactly one hundred and sixty-four cars. Afterward, he drove us over a half hour out of our way to get me sugar-free ice cream.

  It was one of my favorite moments with him.

  Just like now.

  “Let’s sit over here,” Dad said as he gestured toward these rows of elevated benches. It looked like seating for a play or something, but instead of a stage, we looked out of this giant glass window that showed the street below. A ton of taxis and cars whizzed underneath us.

  “Remember how you used to love cars?” Dad asked.

  “And trains,” I added.

  “Pretty much anything that moved.” He put his arm around me. “It’s so good hanging with my son.”

  I didn’t know what to say. These last couple days meant everything to me, but . . .

  Yeah, there was a but.

  Mom.

  Hanging out with Dad meant that I was with Mom less. She kept telling me she wanted me to spend this time with him, but that meant I left her behind. It wasn’t fair to her. But it also wasn’t fair to me. Why did I have to decide between them? I wasn’t the one who wanted the dumb divorce.

  I looked at Dad as he studied the traffic below.

  Even with all the work I’d been doing for the case, I did find a few minutes today at school to do some other kind of research.

  I decided to go for broke. “Did you know that there’s an army post in New York City? Fort Hamilton. It’s in Brooklyn and only a little over an hour subway ride to Harlem.”

  Dad’s gaze stayed fixed on the road. He wouldn’t look at me.

  That was not a good sign.

  After a few more moments of silence, he finally replied, “Is that right?”

  I nodded, but he still wouldn’t look at me.

  “You’re such a smart boy. When did you get to be smarter than your old man?”

  Did that mean he never thought about moving here to be with us?

  He finally turned to me. “My son, the decoder! That’s some serious spy stuff you’re doing.”