Detective Camp
Page 3
“What should we do?” Ruth Rose asked.
“Maybe we should tell the Darbys,” Josh said.
“No, they’d just get all upset if they thought one of their campers was a thief,” Ruth Rose said.
“Should we give it back to Mademoiselle tomorrow?” Dink asked. “Explain how you found it under your—”
“No,” Ruth Rose interrupted, shaking her head. “Because then she’d go and upset the Darbys.”
Just then Buzzy, Angie, and Luke came strolling toward the cabins, laughing and whispering. Ruth Rose pulled Dink and Josh farther into the shadows.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Let’s sneak into the lodge later and leave the ring where Mademoiselle Musée will be sure to find it in the morning.”
Both boys stared at her.
“She’ll just think she misplaced it,” Ruth Rose went on.
“I guess that is the best thing to do,” Dink said. “How will we get in? The doors might be locked.”
“The kitchen door isn’t,” Josh said. “It doesn’t lock. Remember how Mario told us the goat gets in?”
“Okay, set your watch alarm,” Ruth Rose told Dink. She shoved the ring deep into the pocket of her shorts. “Meet right here at midnight!”
They split up, and Dink and Josh hurried into Moose Cabin.
“What’s up, guys?” asked Buzzy. “It’s time to get ready for bed.”
“We were just talking to our friend Ruth Rose,” Dink said.
“Okay, fellas, you can read or whatever for ten more minutes, then lights out,” Buzzy said. “Sleep tight and don’t let the Shady Lake Monster bite!”
Most of the kids laughed.
Josh got undressed and climbed up the ladder to the top bunk.
Dink did the same, pulling on blue pajamas. He set the alarm on his watch, then tried to read. He was reading about bobcats, but all he could picture was someone hiding a stolen ring under Ruth Rose’s mattress.
Later, after the lights were out, he kept thinking about that ring. For some reason, he didn’t believe one of the girls in Fox Cabin was the thief. Could it be Buzzy? In his mind, Dink kept seeing the Moose Cabin counselor on his knees next to Hunter’s bed.
Something very weird was going on in Detective Camp!
Dink was dreaming. He was riding Remote the goat through the forest, with Ronald the rooster on his shoulder. Ronald began to chirp in his ear, and Dink woke up.
The chirping was his watch. He fumbled for the tiny button to shut the alarm off. Midnight. Sitting up, Dink listened to the cabin noises. He heard a lot of soft breathing and a couple of deeper snores from Buzzy’s bed.
Dink reached one leg up and kicked the top bunk to wake Josh. A moment later, Josh climbed down his ladder and stood next to Dink’s bed.
Dink put a finger to his lips, and the two boys slipped out of the cabin. They hurried off the porch toward the trees.
They were both in pajamas and barefoot. The damp grass tickled the bottoms of Dink’s feet. The moon was only partly visible through the trees, but it cast a glow on the ground and cabins.
“She’d better show up soon,” Josh grumbled when they were deep in the shadows.
“I’m riiiight behind youuuu,” Ruth Rose said in a raspy voice.
Josh jumped and put his hand on his chest.
“Why don’t you give me a heart attack!” he hissed.
Ruth Rose grinned. “Gee, are Moose Cabin boys afraid of the dark?” she asked.
“No, but I owe you one scare,” Josh said. “Okay, are we gonna do this?”
The three of them hurried across the lawn, then the driveway. They crept past the picnic tables to the lodge’s back door.
Dink looked for lights, but the windows were totally dark. He reached for the doorknob when Josh’s hand stopped him.
“What if there’s an alarm?” Josh asked.
Dink thought about all those paintings inside and that collection of animals that looked like valuable silver. “There could be, I guess,” he said, pulling back his hand.
“Guys, if the Darbys didn’t fix their broken lock, they sure wouldn’t bother with an alarm,” Ruth Rose said. She turned the doorknob and the door opened.
Dink felt his heart suddenly begin racing as they stepped into the dark kitchen. He crossed his fingers, hoping the Darbys were sound sleepers.
Then he remembered that Mademoiselle Musée also slept in the house. He crossed more fingers.
“This way,” Ruth Rose whispered.
They walked around the long worktable, then through the swinging door into the dining room.
Moonlight shone through the windows, revealing a dining room table. On one end, a large towel covered a bunch of lumpy objects. Dink lifted the towel. He found bottles of liquid, some cotton balls, a package of Q-tips, and a small painting out of its frame. Even in the dim room, Dink could tell that the painting had been cleaned.
Dink replaced the towel carefully. At the far end of the room, he noticed a trunk. It stood on its end with the lid open sideways, like a door. Arranged on narrow shelves inside the trunk were brushes, more bottles, pliers, a hammer, and a few books. The binding on the biggest book read 100 Years of American Painters.
Josh was staring up at a massive moose head over the fireplace mantel. “He looks like you, Dink,” Josh said. “Same ears.”
“Guys, look,” Ruth Rose whispered. She was pointing to a small cardboard box. On its sides were the words: ALL-SAFE LATEX GLOVES.
“She wears these gloves,” Ruth Rose said. “Why don’t I leave her ring on the box? She’ll have to notice it tomorrow.”
Dink nodded. “Good idea,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here before Josh trips over something and the cops catch us for burglarizing!”
Ruth Rose carefully placed the ring on top of the box. The kids hurried out of the lodge and raced across the lawn toward the cabins. Angie and Buzzy were standing on the Moose Cabin porch. They didn’t look happy.
“Uh-oh,” Josh murmured. “Busted.”
“Where have you kids been?” Angie asked.
Dink didn’t know what to say. Josh opened his mouth like a goldfish gulping for oxygen.
“I found Mademoiselle’s ring,” Ruth Rose finally admitted. “We were just returning it. I left it on her worktable.”
Both of the counselors stared at her.
“I found the ring under my mattress,” Ruth Rose went on. “Dink and Josh and I didn’t know what else to do, so we brought it to the dining room.”
“The ring was under your mattress?” Angie said.
Ruth Rose nodded. “I don’t know how it got there, honest!”
“You should have told one of us,” Buzzy said. “We don’t want you kids wandering around in the middle—”
“Ruth Rose, thank you for telling us,” Angie broke in. “We’ll take it from here. Now let’s all get some sleep. Good night, everyone.”
She and Ruth Rose went next door to Fox Cabin. Dink and Josh followed Buzzy inside. “No more midnight rambles, guys,” Buzzy whispered as he slid under his covers.
Dink crawled into his sleeping bag. As he was pulling it up to his chin, the moonlight fell on one of his pajama sleeves. He noticed something yellow on the cuff. It looked like a paint smudge.
Dink touched the smudge, and some of the yellow came off on his finger. It definitely looked like paint. And it was still sticky.
Where had he rubbed against wet paint? Then he remembered the painting on the table in the lodge dining room.
“Oh no,” he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes. He hoped he hadn’t damaged the painting.
As he fell asleep, he pictured himself being sued for a million dollars for ruining a masterpiece.
A raucous scream brought Dink out of a deep sleep. He bolted up off his pillow. Through sleepy, startled eyes, Dink peered out the window over his bed.
Ronald was sitting on a fence post. The rooster flapped his wings and crowed once again. “COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”
Dink dressed quickly, put on sneakers, and left the cabin. A few stars still shone, although a dawn-pink glow was appearing through the trees.
He hurried across the dewy lawn to the back of the lodge. Opening the kitchen door quietly, he peered inside. No Mario. No anyone. He stepped inside and tiptoed to the dining room.
The first thing he checked was the box of gloves. The ring was still there, exactly where Ruth Rose had left it. Then he removed the towel and looked at the painting. Now he could see that it was a winter scene on a farm.
He peered closely at a yellow house. He figured that was where his pajama sleeve had picked up paint. The house looked fine, so he hadn’t ruined it. Gently, he placed a fingertip on the house—the paint was dry.
He replaced the towel, feeling better. He let himself out of the lodge and nearly bumped into Remote.
“What’re you doing here?” Dink asked.
The goat playfully butted his head against Dink’s leg.
“Sorry, no cookies,” Dink said, giving the goat’s head a rub.
Remote turned away and trotted toward one side of the barn. Dink followed him. They came to a small chicken coop enclosed by a wire fence. Dink could hear low clucking sounds, and he could definitely smell chicken manure!
Next to the henhouse stood a large doghouse with straw spilling out the door. Remote stepped inside and gracefully lay down with all four hooves tucked beneath his body.
“Okay, you go back to sleep,” Dink said. “We don’t eat till eight o’clock.”
Just then Dink heard someone approaching on the gravel driveway. He walked around the barn and saw Mario stepping down from a black truck.
Dink stood still, feeling as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
Mario walked toward the kitchen door, yawning. He saw Dink and stopped. “Early bird, eh?” he said.
“Ronald woke me up,” Dink said. “I decided to look around.”
“Want to help?” Mario asked. “Can you gather some eggs? There’s a basket inside the coop.”
“Sure,” Dink said. “Um, do chickens bite?”
Mario laughed. “They might peck, but only if they’re scared. Talk to them gently so they know you’re not an enemy. If they’re on a nest, just move your hand under them slowly and get the eggs.”
Dink opened the coop door. He saw about a dozen chickens, all on nests built along one wall. He found the basket hanging on a nail by the door.
The chickens all stared at Dink as he approached their roosting places. “Good morning, you guys,” Dink said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Got eggs?”
He reached out one hand slowly and slid it beneath a plump white hen. She cocked her head at him but didn’t seem to mind his hand. Dink’s fingers found two warm eggs.
Grinning, he set them in the basket and moved to the next nest. Five minutes later, he walked into the kitchen with sixteen eggs.
“Ah, enough for pancakes,” Mario said. “You feel like being my assistant? Grab that apron off the hook.”
“Awesome!” Dink said, tying a large white apron around his waist. It reached to the tops of his sneakers.
They worked together for a while, then Mario thanked Dink and sent him back to Moose Cabin.
“I appreciate your help,” the cook said. “You’ll make a great chef someday!”
Dink smiled and headed back toward the cabins. The sun was glinting through the trees now, turning the dewy lawn into a blanket of tiny diamonds.
The guys in Moose Cabin were tumbling out of bed, searching for something to wear. Dink grabbed his toothbrush and headed for the washhouse.
Josh was already there, and Dink told him what he’d been doing.
“You got to make pancakes?” Josh said with toothpaste foam on his lips. “And you let me sleep?”
“All I did was crack eggs and throw stuff in a big bowl,” Dink said. Then he grinned. “Mario did say he thought that I’d make an excellent chef!”
Josh shook his head. “I’ll bet there’ll be eggshells in all the pancakes,” he said.
“Nope,” Dink said, turning on the water. “Just in yours.”
At eight o’clock, everyone was sitting at the picnic tables. Dink and Josh waved at Ruth Rose, and she joined them at their table.
“I snuck back in the lodge this morning,” Dink whispered. “The ring was still there. I hope she finds it.”
“Who’s that guy?” asked Josh, pointing toward a man talking with Buzzy.
The man had sleek gray hair. He was thin, had a pointy nose, and was dressed in a gray tracksuit. He reminded Dink of a greyhound dog. His small black eyes seemed to take in everything.
The man sat down at another table, and Buzzy walked into the kitchen. He and the other counselors brought out platters of pancakes, jugs of syrup, and pitchers of orange juice.
“Guys, I just thought of something,” Ruth Rose said. “I want to find out if Mademoiselle Musée found her ring yet. Want to come and see her with me?”
“When?” Josh asked.
“Now, right after we eat,” Ruth Rose said. “It’ll just take a minute.”
After a few minutes, Luke blew his whistle. “Good morning, everyone!” he said. “I hope you all slept well. How about a big cheer for Mario’s fabulous flapjacks!”
Everyone clapped and whistled.
“And this gentleman is Detective Robb,” Luke went on. “He’s going to be your teacher this week. You’ll learn all about fingerprinting and other cool stuff. Mademoiselle Musée has agreed to teach you about forgery. It’s gonna be a great week!”
The man in gray stood up and nodded his head. “Morning, kids,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt your breakfast. Dig in!”
“One more thing,” Angie called out. “Everyone come back here right after chores. You’ll get your map clues and you can start to hunt for the treasure!”
Everyone cheered, then started to eat.
Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose finished first, then got up and headed for the kitchen.
“How were those flapjacks?” Mario asked, winking at Dink.
“The best I ever ate,” Josh said, “even if Dink’s hands touched the batter!”
The kids entered the dining room. Mademoiselle Musée was standing at the table with her back to them.
“Um, excuse me,” Ruth Rose said.
Mademoiselle Musée turned around.
Dink looked past her at the box of latex gloves. The ring was gone. Good, he thought.
“We wondered if you found your ring,” Ruth Rose asked.
The woman stared at the three kids. “Yes, I found it here this morning,” she said. “I—I must have forgotten where I put it.”
“Great!” Ruth Rose said. “You said you might show us how you clean paintings, so we …”
“Yes,” the woman said. “Come closer, but please touch nothing.” The kids gathered around her.
The painting was still there. Dink could see a barn, children playing in the snow, and the yellow house with smoke coming from the chimney, all under a bright blue sky.
Mademoiselle Musée pulled off her gloves, dropped them into a basket under the table, then pulled a fresh pair on.
“I have finished this painting,” she said, sliding it to the center of the table. “But I will demonstrate on one that I have not yet cleaned.”
She walked quickly into the great room and returned with a painting only as large as a book. Flipping the small painting over, she pulled out a few nails with pliers. She slid the canvas out of the frame and laid it on the table.
The kids looked at the soiled painting. It was impossible to tell what was beneath the dirt.
Mademoiselle Musée picked up a cotton ball and wet it f
rom one of the bottles. “As you can see, this painting is covered with years of soot and smoke,” she said. Moving her hand in a small circle, she began gently wiping the damp cotton ball over a small section of the painting. Slowly the dirt disappeared until the green branches of a tree became visible.
“That’s amazing!” Ruth Rose said. “Who painted this?”
“I won’t know until I clean the entire painting,” Mademoiselle Musée said.
Then she pointed to the winter-snow scene. “But that one is a Grandma Moses.”
“Who’s she?” asked Josh.
“My grandmother loves her paintings!” Ruth Rose said. “She was real old when she painted, right, Mademoiselle Musée?”
“Yes, she started out as a simple farmer’s wife,” Mademoiselle Musée said, “and now some of her paintings are worth millions of dollars.”
“M-millions?” Josh said.
Mademoiselle Musée nodded at him. “Grandma Moses was becoming well known before she died,” she said. “Now that she’s been dead for years, she’s very famous!”
“How come she painted on wood instead of canvas?” Dink asked. He pointed to the smoothly cut edges of the Grandma Moses painting.
“That is not wood,” Mademoiselle Musée said. “Grandma Moses lived in the country and could not buy artist canvases. But she had fiberboard in her barn, so she often used that. It is thin, but very hard.”
“How long does it take you to clean a painting?” Josh asked.
“Perhaps two days for one this size,” Mademoiselle Musée answered. “Longer if I have to make repairs.”
“How do you do that?” Dink asked.
“The canvas can become cracked or even ripped,” Mademoiselle Musée explained. “Or when it’s on fiberboard, the paint sometimes flakes off. I make the repairs, then paint over the damaged places.”
“Guys, we’d better get back to our cabins,” Ruth Rose said. “Thanks a lot, Mademoiselle Musée!”
“It is nothing,” the woman said.
The kids hurried out of the lodge and ran toward the cabins. “It’s time for chores,” Ruth Rose said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”