Amos's Killer Concert Caper

by Gary Paulsen

  “I hate to burst your bubble, Sherlock, but I’m busy tomorrow morning.”

  Both front legs of Dunc’s chair hit the floor. “What could possibly be more important than saving someone’s career?”

  “Saving my room from the Salvation Army. My mom didn’t appreciate the way I organized the stuff, so she called the Salvation Army and told them to bring a truck. A big truck.”

  “Come on, Amos. You have to help me. We could be saving lives here.”

  “No way. My whole life is in that room. I’m not just going to stand by and let complete strangers come in and carry it off.”

  Amos had his mind made up, and Dunc knew there was no changing it, unless … “I understand perfectly, Amos. You go ahead and stay home tomorrow morning. I’ll go down to the civic center by myself. It’s okay.”

  Amos eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you giving up so fast? It’s not like you.”

  Dunc turned off his computer. “I wouldn’t want you to be gone during an important thing like a visit from the Salvation Army.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “There’s no catch. Of course, when the band calls me up onstage during the concert and personally thanks me in front of everybody, including Melissa, and I get all the glory for solving the case, you’ll have to sit there and settle for knowing that you stayed home and did what you thought was more important.”

  “You think they’ll call us up onstage?”

  “I’m almost sure of it.”

  Amos chewed on a fingernail. “When you stop and think about it, I guess some of that stuff in my room could stand to be cleared away.”

  Dunc smiled. “Whatever you say, Amos.”

  • 9

  Dunc tripped over the pile of broken models and used tubes of glue at the foot of Amos’s bed. He stopped and listened.

  Nothing.

  Everybody was still asleep. He leaned down close to Amos’s ear. “Wake up. We’ve got major undercover work to do, remember?”

  Amos opened one eye. “Go away. I’m doing my own undercover work right here.” He jerked the covers up over his head and turned over.

  Dunc frowned. He considered calling Scruff, the Binders’ border collie. Scruff hated Amos and would be more than happy to be a part of anything that would irritate him. Dunc had successfully used him in the past to get Amos out of bed, but he knew if he whistled, he might wake someone else. He decided not to risk it. Instead he looked around the room and moved to one of the piles.

  The dirty sock pile.

  Dunc held his own nose and quietly swung a stiff, smelly sock back and forth under Amos’s nose. The cold cream had worked. Amos’s nose was pink again, but now it wrinkled and turned white; then his lip curled. He sputtered and gagged, then sat bolt upright.

  “Ugggh!” Amos knocked the sock out of his hand. “That’s not fair. You used chemical warfare.”

  “Shhh.” Dunc put his finger to his lips. “You want to wake up the whole house?”

  “If I have to get up, they can too.”

  “If your parents get up, they might want you to explain where you’re going at this time of the morning.”

  “So? I’ll explain.”

  “They might not let you go.”

  Amos fell back on his pillow. “Then that’s all the more reason to wake them up.”

  Dunc took Amos by the legs and swung him around sideways. Then he grabbed him by the arms and pulled until he had him in a sitting position. “Come on, Amos. This is important.”

  “You always say that. It never turns out that way, but it doesn’t stop you from saying it.”

  Dunc ignored him. “Where are your clothes?”

  Amos pointed to a pile near the middle of the room. “Take the ones on top.”

  “You’re going to wear clothes from a pile on the floor?”

  Amos nodded. “Saves time. No folding and unfolding. No hangers to worry about. After I’m through with them, I put them in that pile over there.” He pointed to a stack of dirty clothes. “It’s a great system. I thought of it myself. I’m thinking of having it patented. I’ll probably make a ton of money.”

  “Too bad your mother’s not as crazy about it as you are.”

  Amos yawned. “I know. Some people just don’t know a good thing when they see it. If this were to catch on, I’d be rich. Then my dad could retire, and I could hire a maid, install a swimming pool, pay someone to take my sister away—”

  Dunc handed him his clothes. “Get dressed. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  • 10

  Amos let the big metal door slam shut behind him.

  “Shhh!” Dunc glared at him. “We don’t want anybody to know we’re in here.”

  “I thought you said no one would be up at this hour.”

  “First rule of surveillance—you can never be too careful.”

  “Where did you learn that? The Handy Home School of Spying?”

  “Cute. Stay behind me, and try to be quiet.”

  Dunc inched his way along the wall toward the office. Amos followed, even though he was sure the whole thing was a waste of time.

  “Wait.” Dunc held up his hand. “I’ll see if the coast is clear.”

  Amos rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  Dunc moved to the door. He motioned for Amos to come closer.

  “Are we through playing secret agent yet?”

  Dunc clapped his hand over Amos’s mouth. A voice was coming from inside the office. Someone was talking on the phone.

  “Yes, is this the Grenfield Insurance Agency?”

  The boys sat on their heels and waited.

  “Hello, Mr. Grenfield. This is Mange Roper. Listen, I was just calling to double-check the terms on that policy I have with you on the Road Kill band.… I wanted to make sure that if the concert is canceled for any reason, I’ll still be able to collect the insurance money.…”

  Dunc’s eyes widened. He pointed to the balcony. The boys tiptoed away from the office and then blasted up the balcony steps and out the door.

  Amos stopped to catch his breath, but Dunc kept going. “Hey, wait for me.”

  Dunc didn’t slow down. He jumped on his bike and took off. He was already in his room making plans when Amos staggered in.

  “Where’s the fire?” Amos plopped on Dunc’s bed. “The way you’re acting, you’d think it was a matter of life and death.”

  “It might be, Amos. Didn’t you hear Mange on the phone? He collects insurance money every time the band can’t go on. There’s probably no telling what he might do to keep them from appearing tonight.”

  “So go tell Roy. He’ll call the police, and they’ll put Mange away. Simple.”

  “I can’t just go tell Roy a thing like this. He’s known Mange a long time. He’ll want proof.”

  “If he waits for much more proof, he may wind up in the hospital.”

  “There’s only one thing to do.” Dunc stood up. “We have to keep an eye on the band until after the concert.”

  “You mean you have to keep an eye on them. I have a date, remember?”

  “But Amos—”

  Amos held up his hand. “It won’t work. Nothing you can say will convince me. Thanks to you, my bedroom is being ransacked by total strangers. I’ve done my duty for the day. I’m not giving up a date with Melissa for anything.”

  “Not even if they call you up onstage?”

  Amos shook his head. “Not even for that.”

  “Maybe we don’t have to watch them all day. Maybe we can stop Mange if we just go down there a little early and hang around. He won’t try anything with witnesses.”

  “How early is early?”

  “Not too early.”

  “Dunc.”

  “A few hours. You can take your flowers and tux with you. It’ll be fine. You wanted to get there before Melissa. What’s a few hours? This way at least you’ll be on time.”

  “I’d have to get ready for my date in a public bathroom.”

  “I’ll
stick an ‘out of order’ sign on the door. It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  “You had to say that. ‘Trust me.’ You had to say that, didn’t you?”

  • 11

  “How do I look?” Amos stepped out of the civic center bathroom carrying an armful of flowers and a large box of candy.

  Dunc walked around him. “Where did you get the tuxedo?”

  “Ace’s Rent-A-Tux. It took almost everything I made from cleaning this place. Why? Is something wrong?”

  “It looks like it would fit your dad. The tails almost drag on the ground.”

  “Ace told me they were having a big dance at the college, and this was the best he could do on short notice. He even helped me roll up the sleeves. Do you think anyone will notice?”

  Dunc crossed his fingers behind his back and shook his head. “No. You look fine.”

  “What about these?” Amos held out the flowers he had picked from Mrs. McGillis’s garden. “Aren’t they great?”

  “Real nice. But next time, you might try cutting them instead of pulling them up by the roots.”

  “So that’s how they do it! Oh well, if she doesn’t go for them, there’s always the candy.” Amos took the box from under his arm.

  “Gee, Amos. Now I’m impressed. Those chocolates must have set you back a few bucks.”

  “Not really.” Amos took off the lid. “I borrowed the empty box from my mom’s closet and filled the holes with jelly beans from our candy dish downstairs. Want some?”

  “I’ll pass. We better get back out front if we’re going to keep an eye on Mange. So far he hasn’t been able to make a move.”

  “Do you think he knows we’re watching him?”

  “I can’t tell. But it doesn’t matter as long as it keeps him from trying anything.”

  It was still forty-five minutes until showtime. The lighting and sound crew were making last-minute adjustments onstage. So far, nothing unusual had happened. Mange had come out of his office twice to check on things. Each time, he gave some orders and then went back in the office and slammed the door.

  The office door opened again. Mange stomped past the stage and headed for the exit.

  “Now’s our chance.” Dunc motioned for Amos to follow him.

  “Our chance for what?”

  “To get those insurance papers. If we can show them to Roy, he’ll have to believe us. You guard the door while I look for them. If Mange comes back, signal me.”

  Amos grabbed his flowers and candy and positioned himself in front of the door. “Hey, Dunc.”

  “What? Is he coming?”

  “No. I just wondered if you knew what to do for wilting flowers? These are starting to look pretty sad.”

  “Throw them away and give her the candy.”

  “I can’t. You made me miss my dinner and I was starving. I just ate all the candy.”

  Dunc was searching through Mange’s briefcase. He found an envelope with the name Grenfield on it. “I think this is it. Keep watching while I make sure.”

  Amos was trying to prop up his sagging roses. He stuck them under the drinking fountain and turned it on. It didn’t help, and now he had wet, sagging roses. He was about to shake the water off when he looked up. Mange had come back and was standing in front of the stage talking to one of the hands. Amos ducked inside the office and pulled the door shut behind him. “Quick, hide. Mange is right outside.”

  Dunc stuffed the policy in his shirt and searched for a place to hide. There wasn’t any. The office was too small.

  The boys looked at each other in panic. They could hear Mange’s heavy footsteps coming toward them. He was talking to someone. “Give me a minute, Fred. I forgot to lock the office.”

  Dunc held his breath. He watched the doorknob turn. Then he heard a click and the sound of footsteps walking away.

  “Whew!” Amos wiped the perspiration off his forehead. “That was a close one.”

  Dunc slumped down in the armchair. “Don’t look now. But I think we’re locked in.”

  “What? We can’t be locked in. I have a date with Melissa in”—Amos looked at his watch—“exactly thirteen minutes.” He tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. His shoulders drooped. “I knew it,” he said. “It never fails. Every time I go along with one of your stupid plans, something goes wrong.”

  Dunc was studying the ceiling.

  “Are you listening to me? The girl of my dreams is out there, and I can’t get to her. My life is ruined.”

  Dunc stood on the chair. He pulled on the air-conditioner vent. It came loose in his hands.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m going to climb up there.” Amos backed away from him. “You can just include me out. This is a rented outfit.”

  “Suit yourself.” Dunc jumped and grabbed the edge where the vent used to be. He pulled himself up and in. He turned and looked down. “Plenty of room in here for two.”

  Amos sat in the chair. He looked at his flowers, thought about Melissa, and sighed. “She’ll wait outside for a while and then realize she’s been stood up. It’ll break her heart. She’ll probably go straight home and cry her eyes out. It’ll scar her for life.” He stood on the chair and pulled himself up into the shaft.

  “I thought you weren’t coming.” Dunc was already a few feet down the shaft.

  Amos scrambled over the top of him. “Do you think I’d let Melissa wind up a total wreck over this?”

  “Wait up, Amos. How do you know which direction to take?”

  “I can hear talking. They must be letting people in now. We’ll head in this direction until we find another vent, drop out, and find Melissa.”

  They crawled in the dark passage for what seemed to Amos like years.

  “Maybe we should have turned left at that last side shaft,” Dunc said.

  Amos sat down. “It’s no use. We’ll never get out of here in time for the concert.”

  “Wait.” Dunc started moving. “I hear music.”

  “That’s just great. They’ve already started without us.”

  “Come on, Amos. We’ll move toward the music. The louder it gets, the closer we are to the auditorium. There are bound to be vents there somewhere.”

  They crawled until the music was so loud, they could hardly hear each other talk.

  Dunc stopped and yelled, “I found a vent, but I can’t get the cover off.”

  Amos helped, but they couldn’t budge it. Dunc studied the situation. He knew this might be their last chance.

  “Wait, Amos. Is that Melissa I see down there?”

  Amos pressed his face to the vent. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

  “Right there. In the front row with Biff Fastrack.”

  That’s all it took. Amos dived at the vent. His face crashed through it, and he found himself looking down at the stage. He would have landed on his head right in the center of the stage, except his luck cut in and the tails of his tuxedo caught the sharp edge of the air-conditioner shaft. He hung there, suspended in midair, swinging back and forth like a chandelier in front of a packed house.

  • 12

  “Thanks for getting me down. I was starting to get dizzy up there.”

  “No problem.” Roy grinned. “Luckily the song we were playing was called ‘Don’t Keep Me Hanging.’ The audience thought you were part of the show. I’m just sorry you had to wait until intermission so we could close the curtain. What were you two doing up there, anyway?”

  Dunc pulled the insurance papers out of his shirt. “We know who’s behind all the mysterious things that have been happening to your band.”

  “You do?”

  Dunc nodded and held out Mange’s policy. “Take a look at this. Mange gets a pile of insurance money each time you guys don’t play.”

  Roy stared at the policy in Dunc’s hand without taking it.

  “Do you want us to call the cops?” Amos asked.

  Roy sighed. “No. I guess it’s time to come clean. Mange isn’t the one behind all the problems—I am.”
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  “You?!” Dunc dropped the papers, and Amos did a double-take. “I don’t understand,” Dunc said.

  Roy sat down on the stage floor. “It’s a long story. I never meant to hurt anybody. Even that stunt with the spotlight was rigged. I knew it was going to fall all the time. I made sure I was the only one standing in that spot when it did, and I stepped aside.”

  “I still don’t get it.”

  “I just wanted out. All of this”—Roy waved his arm—“it’s not for me. I don’t like having a green face and weird hair. And I especially don’t like doing songs that talk about hurting people and tearing things up.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been easier just to quit?” Amos asked.

  “I couldn’t quit. My contract is good for three more years. I thought if I caused enough things to go wrong, the other guys would call it off. Then there wouldn’t be a band. Without a band, I’d be free to start over again.”

  Dunc tapped his chin. “Hmmm. This gives me an idea.”

  “Not again,” Amos moaned.

  “There just might be an easy way around all of this.”

  • 13

  Dunc put the letter in his pocket and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Binder let him in. He raced past her and took the stairs two at a time. The door to Amos’s room was open. Dunc started to go in. He stopped. For a minute he thought he was in the wrong room.

  It was clean.

  For the first time Dunc could remember, Amos’s room was entirely clean. There was nothing on the floor, and you could actually see the bed.

  “Wow!”

  “Don’t rub it in.” Amos was sitting on the floor in a corner eating a banana. “This is all your fault, you know. The Salvation Army cleaned me out. I’m lucky they left the bed.”

  “This is great, Amos. I never knew you had carpet in here.”

  “Very funny.”

  Dunc pulled the letter out of his pocket. “It’s from Roy.”

  “How does he like his new singing career as just plain old Roy Freeman?”

  Dunc skimmed the letter. “He says he’s doing great, and Road Kill is also doing fine with its new leader. Mange is really packing them in.”