The Incredible Polly McDoodle (The Polly McDoodle Mystery Series Book 4)

by Mary Woodbury

  “I don’t see why we had to bring the dogs,” said Mr. Clay.

  “They like a party,” said Polly. “Look at how perky they look. Besides they’d be upset with the doorbells going and the doors knocking and the both of them confined to their apartments.”

  “Too bad there aren’t any rabbits or squirrels to chase over by Kirby,” said Mandy.

  “And the crooks have gone by now.” Polly fixed the tin foil on one of her silver buttons and straightened her police hat.

  “You’ll have to explain how McDoodle and Clay figured out who was stealing mail and how they did it,” Mandy said.

  “All in good time,” chuckled Kyle. He patted his pocket to check on his parents’ cell phone. Polly checked her pocket too. Clays and McDougalls weren’t taking any chances.

  As they pulled up to the school Polly spotted a short, slim scarecrow in front of the bank handing out chocolates wrapped like coins.

  “Mr. Bhatia, is that you under there?” she called.

  “Why Polly McDougall, fancy seeing you here. Yes, I myself have dressed up for the occasion.” He handed all three kids chocolate coins.

  “I was hoping to see you in the bank,” Ben Bhatia added, speaking to Polly.

  “I haven’t received the cheque I was expecting from Mexico.”

  “It was coming by mail perhaps?” he asked. “This cheque?”

  Polly nodded.

  “I hate to be bearer of bad tidings, but that cheque I believe was presented at our bank just yesterday. There was some confusion about identification. The signature looked not quite right. The teller who was processing it called me over to help. When I saw whom the cheque was written to and looked at the young woman at the counter I knew something was wrong. I asked the customer to wait and we would deal with it. Unfortunately, she grabbed the cheque and ran out. I plan to call the police. They’ll try to present it somewhere else. I myself will predict this.” Mr. Bhatia shook his head solemnly.

  “That’s all right,” said Polly. “The police may know who she is.”

  “I am not understanding this at all, this greed,” said Mr. Bhatia. “People in this country already have so much.”

  “Yes, but some of them want more,” said Kyle as he headed across the street to the school.

  19. Masks and Mayhem

  The street behind the school, the fire station, and the strip mall was filled with people touring on foot and slowly driving by in cars. Every house had a scary display. The sounds of owl hoots, ghost moans, and eerie screams filled the cool air. Billows of exhaust hovered and lights flashed on and off in several mock cemeteries and haunted houses. Children ran from door to door. Teens clustered on corners and wandered in and out of the IGA, the pharmacy, and up and down the lane.

  Polly, Kyle, and Mandy had filled their bags with candies just like the little kids. They walked together to the Explorer to store their goodies before they went in to the dance and costume contest. The spotless green car was parked behind the bookstore. Mrs. Hong had given Clays permission. Cars and trucks were parked everywhere. The kids were careful to hide the candy under the seat, double wrapped so the dogs wouldn’t get at it. Then they let the dogs out so they could stroll down the lane and along the Spookarama street with all its sound effects, lights, displays, and Jack-o-lanterns.

  The dogs went nutso, chasing each other and their tails. They jerked their leashes out of Kyle and Polly’s hands and took off back down the side lane. The kids sprinted after them.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have brought them,” Mandy said.

  Brutus raced towards 109th Street. Kyle ran after him like a quarterback with a hot football. A truck backfired. George trotted back to the car where it was peaceful and sat waiting to get in the back seat. He was shaking like an aspen leaf in a gale.

  “You’re a wimp, George,” Polly scolded.

  Polly’s cell phone rang. She lifted it from her pocket and opened the lid.

  It was Kyle. “Polly, I think I’ve found Mr. Stone’s pickup. It’s parked over here. Are there any lights on in their apartment?”

  Polly stared up at the second floor of the yellow stucco house. It was totally dark. “Maybe they are at the police station.”

  She gazed up and down the lane. Little groups of teenagers dressed in outlandish clothes ambled up and down. Light shone from the back stoops of some houses. The broken down old garage near Stone’s house had all its windows covered and the roll-up garage door was closed tight.

  “No lights in the apartment,” Polly whispered into the phone. “But there’s a crack of light showing under the garage door. Maybe Stone and his sister and her boyfriend are in there.”

  “Don’t do anything rash,” said Kyle. “Can you come here? I need you to do something for me.”

  “I’d come, but somebody has to keep an eye on the garage,” said Polly.

  “I’ll go,” said Mandy. “You keep watch here.” She ran down the lane quickly and disappeared in the darkness.

  Polly stood alone in the dark lane. Her heart beat rapidly. She clenched her fists and looked around carefully. People in masks were everywhere. A guitar group was tuning up in the school gymnasium. Her parents and the Clays were already inside the school. Brian and Karen Beamish were in the bookstore searching for travel books about Italy. She gulped twice.

  Polly rang Kyle’s cell phone. “What’s up.”

  “I’m letting the air out of their truck tires. Stone and the others may have moved out of the apartment before Detective Black got there. If they aren’t in the garage, they are mixing with the crowd and waiting for an opportunity to rescue their stuff. Watch for those celebrity masks and any other familiar markings. They’ll probably be carrying pillowcases just like the other kids.”

  “Hadn’t we better let the police know?” Polly asked.

  “I’ve already sent Mandy to find the police cruiser that is patrolling the area. With a mob scene like this you know they’ll have someone assigned to crowd control.”

  “I’m not moving. I’m watching the garage. The one that the pharmacist said Stone and his sister had rented. I’ve got George on a leash right beside me. He’s shaking. He doesn’t like all the sounds from the Spookarama street.”

  “I’m nearly done here.” Kyle’s voice sounded deeper than usual. Like an older kid. “I’ll bring Brutus back. He’s not as nervous as George.”

  Polly sighed with relief. Trust old reliable Kyle. Good friends were hard to find. Thank goodness that McDoodle and Clay team was still okay.

  Polly turned to stare down the lane toward 109th Street. Just then three figures came out from behind the garage. Two wore black tearaway pants, grey hooded sweatshirts and the Madonna and Bart Simpson masks. Stone’s sister and her boyfriend—Polly was sure it was them—were both carrying pillowcases with candy sticking out of the top. Behind them came a person with a black mask, an ugly striped sweater, and plaid polyester trousers. He was carrying a black briefcase. They started walking quickly down the lane toward the parked truck.

  “Wait a minute!” Polly hollered. “Mr. Stone, I believe.”

  “I don’t think so Miss McDougall,” the masked man said. He turned and made to throw his briefcase at her. Meanwhile the other two ran down the block. Polly let go of George’s leash. He sprang toward the masked crook. Brutus howled from the other end of the block where Kyle was. The dog and the boy came flying down the lane, dodging pot holes and Halloween revellers. In the distance Polly could hear Stone’s old truck start and backfire twice.

  The police cruiser pulled up beside her. Detective Black climbed out. She started jogging down the lane. George stood holding a piece of plaid trouser leg in his jaw and growling.

  Mr. Stone meanwhile ran down the lane dodging witches, goblins, ghosts, and angels with Detective Black after him. He leapt into the idling truck as it pulled away from the curb. Brutus barked and Kyle yelled. Polly and Kyle ran across the parking lot and out onto the street. The cruiser drove after the truck as it lumbe
red down 76th Avenue with its sick muffler and flat tires. The cruiser caught up with it easily. Another police car blocked its way onto 114th Street. There was no escape. The three crooks sat in the broken down truck.

  By this time Polly, Kyle and Mandy had caught up with the truck and cruiser. The three of them tried to catch their breath. Detective Black opened the creaking passenger door of the truck. Mr. Stone and his sister climbed out of the cab. The skinny boyfriend was being led away to the cruiser blocking access to 114th Street. He was mumbling bad words and nasty phrases under his breath.

  “You can’t prove anything,” laughed Mr. Stone. He had taken off his mask and the anger in his eyes blazed at Polly and Kyle who stood side by side with their dogs. Stone waved the tape in the air. “I’m just trick or treating like everyone else.”

  Kyle wiped dirt from his face and grinned. He reached into his oversized lab coat pocket and pulled out a videotape. “You’d be surprised how resourceful kids can be, Mr. Stone.”

  Polly put her hand over her mouth. She knew the videotape was a copy of Ghostbusters that the three of them were going to watch later, not the surveillance tape. Kyle was gambling—gambling that Stone wouldn’t know the truth. The cops had already picked up the real videotape from Kyle’s place.

  “A second surveillance tape,” Kyle said coolly. “From our building lobby. We installed a camera recently. It’s very interesting.”

  “You brats!” Stone shouted as the police escorted him and his sister away.

  Detective Black turned and spoke to the kids. “I think that’s enough for one night.”

  Polly, Kyle and Mandy straightened their costumes, put the two tired dogs in the car with two rawhide dog chewies, and made their way into the school gym. Kyle joined two guitarists and a drummer. Their set was due on stage in thirty minutes. A DJ was playing dance tunes. Mandy and Polly got in the parade with the milling throng.

  “I don’t need a prize tonight,” said Polly.

  Mandy agreed. “But we get to see everyone’s costume this way.”

  “And wave at the folks.”

  Polly’s mom was dishing out punch. Her dad was comforting a lost kid. Mrs. Clay was clearing tables and the Beamishes were setting out little sandwiches and celery sticks filled with cream cheese.

  “Little do they know,” said Mandy.

  “I’m not sure I want them to know everything about what just went on.”

  Mandy nodded.

  20. Greed, Gambling, and Games

  Saturday morning the whole apartment building seemed to be asleep. Polly’s mom had set cinnamon buns to rise over night. By the time Detective Black and the two officers she brought with her showed up at 10 a.m., Kyle, Mandy, their folks, and Polly were grouped in the living room. The tantalizing aroma of baking bread and sugar filled the suite.

  “Here we go again.” Mrs. McDougall passed around fresh hot rolls and butter. Polly’s dad passed coffee and juice.

  Detective Black sighed, “I guess there is no point in warning you kids about the danger you could have confronted delving into this investigation like you did.” She handed Polly her sketchbook. “We may need this later.”

  “Okay,” Polly blushed.

  Polly and Kyle both hung their heads for a moment. Polly was at a loss for words for once in her life.

  Kyle lifted his head. “We thought there were a few things that someone on the scene could do that external investigators couldn’t. We never really expected to find the real perpetrators.”

  Polly chuckled. Good old Kyle, the not-always Clam and his big vocabulary. “It was more like a puzzle we wanted to solve.”

  “Well, I’m just relieved that no one got hurt.” Ted McDougall reached over and tousled his daughter’s hair. “We’ll have to make sure Polly doesn’t stumble on any more crimes, that’s all.”

  Polly opened her sketchbook and Kyle his notebook. They spread the map on the floor. Kyle had a folder with the writing samples from some of the suspects.

  “There are some things that came easily,” said Polly. “We knew that Mrs. Kim had lost her keys. We knew that Mrs. Dobson had talked out loud in the pharmacy about sending money in the mail.”

  “The trick was to find out who besides the pharmacist and Flora knew about the money in the card,” said Kyle. He munched on his third cinnamon bun. He had a big appetite, that boy.

  “The thieves decided to knock over the mail box for the money. The unexpected bonus was Mrs. Kim’s lost keys on the top of the green box. That gave them the idea of going into business full scale.” Polly poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a sip.

  “At that point we didn’t have any evidence that pointed to anyone we knew except possibly Flora and Tommie Lee.”

  “What about the Dell boys?” asked Mandy. “They seemed to be in the picture.”

  “They had tearaway pants and bikes for sure. They had a father in jail in Saskatchewan. But they seemed to be moving in a positive direction—going back to school and staying with their Uncle,” said Kyle.

  “We both thought that mail robbery seemed the wrong kind of crime for them,” said Polly.

  “When did you first suspect Mr. Stone?” asked Mr. Clay. “He’s a teacher, for goodness sake!”

  “We were actually thinking more of his sister and her boyfriend. They had bikes and lived in the neighbourhood.” Polly munched on her cinnamon bun. “Mr. Stone couldn’t have been in the pharmacy that morning because he was probably at school being briefed. It was his first day at Kirby. He wasn’t involved with Mrs. Dobson in the bank. It must have been Benita or her skinny boyfriend.”

  “I hate to say this about a teacher,” said Mandy. “I hope you adults don’t mind, but he seemed to talk down to us. He believed we were dumb. He seemed to think he was smarter than all of us put together.”

  “I got suspicious after the cast-off mail was found in the school trash,” said Kyle. “Mr. Stone had easy access to that. It was risky to throw it there, but he probably assumed we were too dumb to figure it out.”

  “But when he talked about how the bank and the government had mistreated his family and his folks had lost their farm,” said Polly, “we knew he wasn’t a happy camper. He had a big motive—revenge. Then yesterday he made those remarks to me in class, trying to intimidate me. ”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if his documents and university transcripts are forgeries,” said Kyle. “I can’t believe a real teacher would act that bad.”

  “Maybe we are eternal optimists,” said Polly. “We just kept our eyes and ears open. That’s all we did.”

  Detective Black cleared her throat. She looked around at the parents. “Thanks to these kids for that. It led us to run background checks on all the people Polly and Kyle mentioned.” She helped herself to another cup of coffee. “We had amassed quite a file already.”

  “The real breakthrough came when Brian and I mounted the video camera in the vestibule of our apartment building,” said Kyle. “It was nifty.”

  “Actually the real breakthrough came when I blabbed about our family expecting mega money in the mail.” Polly nibbled a gooey bun.

  “All our suspects heard the news,” laughed Kyle. “And I teased Polly about her big mouth.”

  “The strange thing was that we had been receiving letters at the station from one of the crooks telling us how he was operating—how they forged the cheques, and made fake IDs. It was like it was a game and he wanted us to catch him.”

  “We read about that in the paper. He’s a gambler after all,” said Mr. Clay sadly. “But why risk putting the cards back in the mailboxes?”

  “Because he is an arrogant gambler,” said Detective Black. “He didn’t think anyone was on to his game so he upped the ante.”

  “I think he felt sorry for people like Mrs. Dobson. He knew she was lonesome,” Karen Beamish said. “We know about being lonesome in our family, don’t we, Mandy?”

  Mandy nodded. She helped herself to another half a cinnamon bun and m
unched quietly. “But come December 21st we fly out of here.” She grinned happily.

  “I was sure glad it wasn’t Flora and Tommie Lee,” said Polly. “Tommie Lee’s writing didn’t match the writing on the back of the envelope Mandy found. Mr. Stone’s did.” She held up her essay with the notes scrawled at the bottom. “He makes two very fancy loops on his capital F as in “File” on the list on the envelope and F for “Feeble” when he was talking about my reasoning ability. I’d like to give him a big F for Failure.”

  “When Mrs. Dobson told Polly about Flora and Tommie Lee picking up mail and watering flowers I knew that was what they were doing going into strange places and having a bunch of keys,” said Kyle. “I’m glad it wasn’t them. Especially after Tommie Lee gave Polly a squirrel candle.”

  “That’s enough of a collection, young lady.” Polly’s mom sprang up and headed to the kitchen for more coffee. When she saw Karen’s face looking blank she explained. “Polly has a stuffed rabbit, a wooden deer, and a pottery magpie from the other mysteries that have happened around her.”

  Polly took the squirrel candle from her pocket and put it on the shelf with the other souvenirs. “Yes, I guess that’s enough.”

  “There could be a reward from Student Crime Stoppers for this,” said Detective Black. She retrieved all the evidence that the kids had collected from the floor. “What will you do with the money?”

  “It will help with the airfare for this young lady to go on the school art excursion to Florence and Rome next spring,” announced Ted McDougall. “At least when she’s in Italy she’ll have to let the Italians solve their own crimes.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” muttered Kyle Clay. “The International McDoodle might just surprise us all.”

  Mary Woodbury is the author of the best-selling Polly McDoodle series and a number of other books very popular with young readers. She lives in Edmonton with her husband Clair and her West Highland White Terrier Misty.