The Mystery of Case D. Luc

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The Mystery of Case D. Luc Page 2

by Beverly Lewis


  Signed,

  Case D. Luc

  Dunkum found a pencil and began filling in the letters. It was easy. He could read the entire message. If his basketball was truly safe, that was good. But waiting till tomorrow for the next clue? That wasn’t good. Where would he find a gate—with a chalk mark?

  Boom-a-bang! Thunder shook the house.

  “Oh no!” cried Dunkum. “Not rain!” The chalk mark on the gate—wherever it was—might wash off.

  What then?

  SEVEN

  The next day was Monday.

  Dunkum woke up and reached for his basketball. He had forgotten it was gone. Sadly, Dunkum rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He ran to the window and looked out.

  It was still raining!

  Dunkum trudged downstairs. How would he find a chalk mark in the rain? His next clue depended on it!

  After school, the rain had stopped. Dunkum wasn’t going to walk home with the Cul-de-sac Kids. Not today. He had an important mission to accomplish. A secret mission!

  At home, Dunkum grabbed his after-school snack. Then he dashed outside to search for a gate. But where?

  Dunkum knew of only one gate in the whole cul-de-sac. It was in Mr. Tressler’s backyard. He was the old man who lived at the end of Blossom Hill Lane. The Cul-de-sac Kids had welcomed Mr. Tressler to the neighborhood last Christmas. Now he wasn’t lonely anymore.

  Dunkum headed for Mr. Tressler’s house. He ran past Dee Dee’s house. And Jason’s. And Eric’s.

  At last he came to the end of the cul-de-sac. Marching up the steps, Dunkum headed for Mr. Tressler’s doorbell. He rang it twice.

  “Hello there, young man,” the old gentleman said.

  “Good afternoon,” Dunkum said politely. “May I please look for something in your backyard?”

  The man’s face wrinkled into a smile. “Be my guest.”

  Dunkum thanked him and sprinted to the backyard. He headed for Mr. Tressler’s back gate and searched for a chalk mark. There was no X mark near the latch. There was no X mark on either side of the gate.

  Dunkum knelt in the damp grass. Then he spotted something. It was a chalky white X. “Yes!” he shouted.

  Now where was the clue? Dunkum spotted an old flowerpot. Something was sticking out of the dirt. He pulled at it. But it was only a curled-up leaf.

  But wait! Dunkum could see something yellow peeking out of the leaf. He opened it and found another code hidden inside.

  Staring at the yellow paper, Dunkum gulped. “There’s no way I’ll figure out this code,” he said out loud.

  “What’s that you say?”

  Dunkum stood up.

  Mr. Tressler was calling to him from his deck. “What did you find out there?”

  Dunkum ran across the yard with the yellow paper. Mr. Tressler looked puzzled when he saw the code. It was a bunch of strange shapes and symbols.

  Then Dunkum told him about the missing basketball. And the first secret code—the Morse Code.

  “A boy could get mighty lonely without his basketball,” Mr. Tressler said. There was a twinkle in his eye.

  “That ball means everything to me,” Dunkum said.

  “Everything? Even more than your friends in the cul-de-sac?” A wide grin swept across Mr. Tressler’s face. “Seems to me, a ball is a poor exchange for friendship.”

  “I want to be a great player someday,” Dunkum said. “Just like David Robinson. So, I have to keep practicing.”

  “What’s wrong with your old ball?”

  “It’s not the same,” said Dunkum. “David Robinson signed my new one!”

  “I see,” Mr. Tressler said, raising his eyebrows. “How can that make you play better?”

  “It’s fun to pretend. That’s all,” Dunkum said.

  “Your friends are real, nothing pretend about them . . .” The old man’s voice trailed off.

  Dunkum blurted out, “My new basketball is more fun!”

  Mr. Tressler lowered himself into a patio chair. He faced Dunkum squarely. “Well, now, how could a ball be more fun than Eric and Shawn and Abby and. . . ?”

  Dunkum stood up. “I have important work to do,” he said in a huff. “Excuse me.” And he ran out of the yard.

  When he stopped to lock the gate, Dunkum saw something strange. Mr. Tressler was grinning!

  EIGHT

  Dunkum ran next door. “Is Eric home?” Dunkum asked Mrs. Hagel.

  “He’s riding bikes with Jason and Shawn,” she said.

  Dunkum sat down on Eric’s step, thinking about Mr. Tressler. Why was he grinning like that?

  Feeling quite lonely, Dunkum trudged across the street. Maybe Abby was home. He felt a lump in his throat as he knocked on her front door. He wished he hadn’t yelled at her yesterday.

  The door opened. It was Abby’s little sister, Carly. “Hi, Dunkum.” She had a stack of construction paper in her hands.

  “Is Abby home?” Dunkum asked.

  “She’s at Stacy’s house,” Carly said.

  Just then, Dee Dee came down the hall to sneak up on Carly. “Gotcha!” she shouted.

  Carly jumped and the stack of colored papers fell to the floor.

  Dunkum helped pick them up. When he started to hand a yellow page to her, he stopped. He looked at it. “Hey, wait a minute,” Dunkum whispered to himself. “This paper looks the same as the one in my pocket!”

  “Talking to yourself?” Dee Dee teased.

  Dunkum held up the yellow construction paper. “Where did you get this?”

  “The art supply store. Why?” Dee Dee asked.

  Dunkum shook his head. “Just wondered.”

  “Carly and I are doing a project for school,” Dee Dee said. “And we’re going to get an A+! Right, Carly?”

  Dunkum scratched his head and turned to go.

  Carly closed the door. Dunkum pulled the yellow coded message out of his pocket. He stared at it. Did Case D. Luc buy his paper at the same store as Dee Dee? thought Dunkum.

  Just then, Jimmy Hunter, Abby’s little brother, came up the walk.

  “Hi, Jimmy,” Dunkum said. “Can you help me?” He felt silly asking a first grader for help. But he had no other choice. Everyone else was busy.

  Jimmy pointed to himself. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” Dunkum held up the yellow paper. He showed Jimmy the shapes on the latest code. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  Jimmy nodded his dark head.

  “You have? Where?” Dunkum shouted. “Maybe you can help me crack this code.”

  “I not know about codes, but I see shapes in book,” Jimmy said. “Wait!” He ran into the house. Soon he came back with a book. “Here.” He shoved the book into Dunkum’s hands.

  Dunkum opened the library book. There were lots of codes inside. “Hey, thanks!” Dunkum patted Jimmy on the back.

  Jimmy grinned. “Open to first page.”

  Page one was a pictogram. Just like the code he’d found in Mr. Tressler’s backyard!

  NINE

  Dunkum looked at the pictogram, then at Jimmy. “Where did you get this?”

  “From sister’s room.”

  “Which sister?” Dunkum said.

  “Big sister. Abby sister.”

  “What’s she doing with a code book?” Dunkum said, half to himself, and half to Jimmy.

  Jimmy grinned. “Abby have pen pal. She write secret codes to Abby.”

  “Codes in a letter?” Dunkum said.

  Jimmy nodded again. “Abby need book to help her read secret messages.”

  Dunkum stuffed the yellow code into his shirt pocket. He wondered if Case D. Luc knew about this book.

  Dunkum thanked Jimmy and hurried home. He didn’t want to forget the pictograms in Abby’s code book. Running into the house, he pulled the yellow paper out of his pocket. Dunkum began to fill in the blanks. (Can you finish before he does?)

  When he finished, the message was clear. Dunkum had to climb the old oak tree at the end of the cul-de-sac. Tomorrow the
next clue would be waiting—on the third branch!

  But waiting was hard for Dunkum. Twenty-four hours! How could he last another day without his basketball?

  He watched for Eric, Jason, and Shawn from his front window. They would be back from riding bikes soon. Maybe he would ask them to come over and play. It had been a long time since he’d seen them.

  After ten minutes, Dunkum gave up. He took some paper from the kitchen. Then he sat at the table and made a list of clues. He wrote a heading on his list.

  THE MYSTERY OF CASE D. LUC

  Basketball—signed by David Robinson

  Basketball—stolen by Case D. Luc (???)

  Blue Morse Code—found on backboard

  Chalk mark on Mr. Tressler’s gate

  Yellow pictogram clue—found in flowerpot

  Construction paper from art store—same as code paper

  Library book—pictogram on first page

  Next clue—tomorrow (in the old oak tree)

  Dunkum twirled his pencil. He was determined to find this Case D. Luc person. He would never give up!

  TEN

  It was Tuesday—almost dusk.

  Dunkum stared up at the old oak tree. He switched on his flashlight and pointed it up. He was dying to see his basketball sitting in the branches. But no basketball was in sight.

  Up, up he climbed. Squatting down on the third branch, he looked around. No clues anywhere! He counted the branches again. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3! Nothing there.

  Just then, Stacy Henry came by walking her dog, Sunday Funnies. She stopped under the lamppost. “What are you doing?” she called.

  “Nothin’ much,” he answered.

  Stacy walked toward him.

  He wished she’d go away. He had to hunt for his next clue. In private!

  “Want some company?” she asked. Before he could say no, Stacy tied her dog to the tree. And she scrambled up to the third big branch.

  Part of Dunkum wanted to tell her to leave. The other part wanted someone to talk to.

  Soon Mr. Tressler’s porch light came on. His house was closest to the oak tree.

  “I wonder if Mr. Tressler’s expecting someone,” Stacy said.

  “Maybe,” Dunkum said, glancing over at the old man’s house. “He gets lonely, I think.”

  “Yeah,” Stacy said. “I’m glad he has the Cul-de-sac Kids to keep him company.”

  “I wish I still did,” Dunkum whispered.

  Stacy smiled at him. Mr. Tressler’s porch light helped Dunkum see her face. “You still have us,” Stacy replied.

  “It doesn’t seem like it,” Dunkum said sadly.

  “Maybe you should come to the April Fool’s Day party on Friday,” she suggested. “It’s going to be lots of fun.”

  Dunkum sighed. “Maybe I will.”

  Sunday Funnies began to whine.

  Dunkum looked down at him from high in the tree. “Hey, look! Your dog’s trying to get loose,” he said.

  Stacy laughed. “He likes to be where the action is. And right now, that’s up here.”

  “Why don’t you go down and bring him up?” Dunkum said. “Then he won’t be lonely.”

  “I better not. It’s getting dark,” she said. “My mom might worry.”

  Dunkum was sorry to see Stacy leave. He watched her swing from one branch to another. Soon she was at the bottom, looking up.

  “See you at school tomorrow.” She waved goodbye.

  Alone again, Dunkum leaned back against the tree trunk. He looked up at the stars. He thought about the April Fool’s Day party. He thought about his cul-de-sac friends. A sad, sad feeling filled his heart.

  Then Dunkum remembered why he was sitting in the tree. He looked again for the clue. In the dim light he saw a pink note, squished between two branches. Why couldn’t I find this before? Dunkum wondered.

  He opened the note and found a list of words. It looked like a grocery list. Stacy must have dropped this, Dunkum thought.

  But where was the code?

  ELEVEN

  Dunkum scrambled down, out of the tree. He ran all the way to Stacy’s house. Her mother might need the grocery list. He knocked on the door.

  Stacy answered. “Hi, again.”

  “Did you drop your mom’s grocery list?”

  “What list? Where?” Stacy asked.

  “In the tree.” Dunkum showed her the paper.

  “That’s not my mom’s list. Look, it has other words mixed in with the food words,” Stacy said. She stared at the paper.

  Dunkum looked at the list, too.

  crackers oranges peaches

  yogurt chips potatoes

  look salsa after

  out your today

  tower man spaghetti

  apples lettuce school

  on baked beans soup

  shirt bike tomorrow

  “That’s strange. Could this be some kind of code?”

  “Maybe,” Stacy said. “I saw a code like this once. My uncle made it up. He called it a jumble code.”

  “What’s that?” Dunkum asked.

  “It’s easy,” Stacy said. “Each word in the secret message comes right below the food words. The rest of the words don’t count.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  Stacy ran into the house. She came back with a pencil. “Here, let’s solve it together.”

  Dunkum paused. “Um, not now. But thanks.”

  “Why can’t we work on it now?” she asked.

  Dunkum scratched his head. “Sorry, Stacy. I better go home.”

  “Aw, please?” Stacy begged.

  “I’ll see you at school,” Dunkum said. “Bye.” He felt bad about leaving his friend like that. Stacy wasn’t trying to snoop. He knew she just wanted to be a good friend.

  Dunkum ran home to crack the code. When he finished it, the message was clear.

  “Hey, wait a minute! How does Case D. Luc know I have a bike?”

  “What did you say?” his mother said, coming down the steps.

  “Nothin’,” Dunkum muttered.

  “Your friend Eric called,” she said.

  “He did?”

  “He wants to play tomorrow.”

  “All right!” Dunkum shouted. “When?”

  “After school.” His mother grinned.

  Dunkum spun around and aimed at the fireplace. He leaped up like he was shooting a basketball. He couldn’t wait to see Eric again!

  After school the next day, Dunkum greeted Eric. The boys rushed into the kitchen for some lemonade.

  “Coming to Abby’s party?” Eric asked.

  “You bet!” Dunkum said.

  “Changed your mind?” Eric asked.

  Dunkum nodded. He didn’t care about finding the next clue. It didn’t matter now. Being with friends was much better.

  At bedtime, Dunkum remembered the clue. Dashing downstairs, he looked in the garage. A green paper, folded like a note, was taped to his bike. Dunkum pulled the note off the seat. Strange-looking words were written inside.

  EMOC OT ELOPGALF NI TNORF

  FO LOOHCS TA EERHT NO YADIRF. I LLIW GNIRB LLABTEKSAB.

  Signed,

  Case D. Luc

  How did this get here? Dunkum wondered. He studied the code for a long time. Then he ran inside and held the green paper up to a mirror. The words were still mixed up.

  Finally, he figured it out. The words weren’t mirror image, they were backwards!

  The message was: COME TO FLAGPOLE IN FRONT OF SCHOOL AT THREE ON FRIDAY. I WILL BRING BASKETBALL.

  Dunkum folded up the note. The April Fool’s Day party was at three o’clock, too. How could he meet Case D. Luc and go to the party?

  Dunkum stared at the note. What should I do? he thought.

  TWELVE

  It was almost three o’clock on Friday. Time to meet Case D. Luc at the flagpole. And . . . time for the party at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Dunkum sat on his front porch. He thought about Case D. Luc and the codes. He thought about the Cul-d
e-sac Kids and the party. He missed his friends more than his new basketball. Rats! he thought. Let Case D. Luc keep the silly ball.

  He ran to the end of the cul-de-sac. Abby smiled. “Hi, Dunkum,” she said. “Didn’t you hear? We canceled the party.”

  Dunkum stepped back. “You what?”

  Abby sat on the curb. “I’m sorry, Dunkum.”

  “But I just talked to Eric about it yesterday.” Dunkum’s heart was pounding. “And what about Stacy? She told me she was coming!”

  “That’s funny,” Abby said, looking strange.

  “It’s not funny,” Dunkum insisted.

  Then—Tap! Tap! A familiar sound greeted Dunkum’s ears. The Cul-de-sac Kids were coming out of their houses. They were all bouncing basketballs!

  Dunkum turned to Abby. “What are they doing?”

  “April Fool’s, Dunkum!” she said. “The party is just beginning!”

  The kids ran toward the oak tree, bouncing the balls. Dunkum was glad. He’d missed his friends. A lot!

  Abby grabbed Dunkum’s arm. “Look! There’s Case D. Luc!”

  Dunkum didn’t see anyone new. “Where?”

  Abby giggled. “ ‘Case D. Luc’ is ‘cul-de-sac’ spelled backward.”

  Dunkum was puzzled. “Case D. Luc isn’t some guy?”

  “Nope,” Abby said, grinning. “The Cul-de-sac Kids pulled a trick on you.”

  Dunkum couldn’t believe it!

  “We missed you, Dunkum. You were always playing basketball,” she said. “We had to get your attention somehow.”

  “What a good trick,” Dunkum said as he ran to meet the kids.

  The Cul-de-sac Kids grabbed him. “April Fool’s!” they shouted.

  Dee Dee pushed her way through. “Here, Dunkum.” She gave him the David Robinson basketball. “I was your thief.”

  Dunkum scratched his head. “You stole it?”

  Dee Dee nodded.

  “But how did you find it?” Dunkum asked.

  “Easy,” she said. “Your mom found it in your closet. I got it from her while you were at church.”

  “My parents helped you?” Dunkum said.

 

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