Copycat Mystery (5 page)

Violet was still giggling. “Your great-great-grandfather sure wasn’t a prim and proper Victorian, Miss Pennink.”

“No, indeed!” agreed Miss Pennink. “And one way or another, I intend to make sure everyone knows it!” With that, she marched up the porch steps and disappeared into the farmhouse.

The Aldens exchanged puzzled looks. What did Miss Pennink mean by
one way or another?

They had little time to think about it, though. When they stepped into the Victorian kitchen, they caught sight of Sharon holding up an antique birdcage!

Gwen was shaking her head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe it! How in the world did a bird get inside that cage?”

The Aldens looked closer. Sure enough, a little yellow canary was flitting from perch to perch!

Benny’s eyes were huge. “Is that another optical illusion?”

Sharon shook her head, looking pleased. “No way!”

“Where
exactly
did you find the missing birdcage, Sharon?” inquired Gwen.

“In the scullery,” Sharon told her sister as she set the birdcage down on the kitchen table. “You know that old lace tablecloth that was over one of the tubs? Well, the cage was hidden underneath.”

Puzzled, Jessie said, “I thought you looked in the scullery this morning.”

Sharon seemed annoyed by Jessie’s question. “I didn’t check under the tablecloth. I thought there were only old clothes underneath. It wasn’t until I started getting things ready for the laundry demonstration that I noticed the birdcage.”

“I know it was in the parlor yesterday,” said Gwen. “Without the canary!”

“Looks like somebody’s playing practical jokes again,” said Jake North.

The Aldens turned around in surprise. They hadn’t noticed the reporter standing in a corner of the kitchen.

“That’s exactly what it looks like,” said Miss Pennink, slumping down into a chair.

Gwen placed a gentle hand on the elderly woman’s shoulder. “Are you all right, Miss Pennink?” she asked.

“I heard so many stories about Horace when I was growing up,” said Miss Pennink. “The birdcage-in-the-laundry-tub was one of those stories.”

Curious, everyone moved closer to hear what Miss Pennink had to say.

“According to the story,” said Miss Pennink, “Amanda Wagner—Horace’s wife—dreaded doing the laundry and always said she wished it would just sprout wings and fly away.”

“I’ve heard it was hard work in those days,” commented Jake.

Miss Pennink nodded. “Horace wanted it to seem as if the laundry really
had
sprouted wings. So, on one of his business trips, he bought an anniversary gift for his wife—a birdcage with a little yellow canary inside.” Miss Pennink paused. “Then, on April Fool’s Day, he hid the birdcage in an empty laundry tub in the scullery. They say that Amanda was just delighted when she found it there.”

Gwen stared at the canary in the cage. “Then this is an
exact
copy of that practical joke?”

Miss Pennink nodded slowly. “Horace did this so people would notice him. He doesn’t like to be forgotten in his own home.”

Jessie felt a chill up her spine. She didn’t really believe in ghosts, but she couldn’t help wondering if the ghost of Horace Wagner
was
responsible for the practical jokes.

They had to put all thoughts of the mystery aside for a while as visitors started arriving. Gwen took the birdcage into the back office, while the Aldens helped Sharon carry the washtubs and wringers out to the side porch for the laundry demonstration.

Jake took photographs while they filled the washtubs with water from the pump. And when enough visitors had gathered on the porch, Sharon began the demonstration. She showed everyone how the clothes were scrubbed against a washboard to get them clean, then put through the wooden rollers to squeeze the water out. With Henry’s help, Benny turned the crank on the wringer around and around.

Later, Gwen stuck her head out the door and offered Jake a cup of coffee.

“Sounds great!” Jake said as he put the cap back on the lens of the camera. “I was just finishing up here anyway.” Before he went inside, he stopped to whisper to the Aldens, “Sure hope I don’t see any ghosts lurking in the background when these pictures are developed.”

When he was gone, Violet said, “I’ve got goose bumps just thinking about it.”

“I don’t understand it,” said Henry, keeping his voice low. “Somebody’s going to a lot of trouble to make everyone think the farmhouse is haunted.”

“You’re right, Henry,” agreed Jessie. “But it’s a mystery why anyone would want to do such a thing.”

It
was
a mystery—but it was a mystery the Aldens were determined to solve.

Benny was tearing the lettuce into bite-sized pieces for dinner. “Working as a tour guide sure gives me an appetite!” he said.

“
Everything
gives you an appetite, Benny.” Henry laughed as he took a wooden salad bowl down from the cupboard and handed it to his younger brother.

After returning from the Wagner farm, the Aldens had gone for a quick dip in the pond near their aunt’s house. Now, cool and refreshed, they were busy helping with dinner.

“I just can’t believe it!” said Aunt Jane, who still hadn’t gotten over the shock after hearing about the latest practical joke. “There was actually a
canary
inside the birdcage?”

Jessie nodded as she sliced cucumbers for the salad. “Gwen said the canary couldn’t stay in the farmhouse, so Miss Pennink took the little bird home with her.”

“Miss Pennink plans to bring the antique cage back in the morning,” added Henry as he carefully chopped up carrots and celery. “She’s going to buy a new birdcage for Nester.”

Aunt Jane raised an eyebrow. “Is that the canary’s name?”

Benny was washing a handful of cherry tomatoes under the tap. “Nester’s a very good name for a canary. Don’t you think so, Aunt Jane?”

Aunt Jane smiled at Benny. “Absolutely! After all, birds
do
make nests,” she said.

“Was that name, by any chance,
your
idea, Benny?”

The youngest Alden beamed proudly. “How’d you guess?”

“Oh, just a hunch.” Aunt Jane’s eyes twinkled.

Jessie couldn’t help noticing that her sister was unusually quiet. “Is anything wrong, Violet?”

“Not really.” Violet added another spoonful of mayonnaise to the potato salad, then smiled a little at Jessie. “I just can’t get the copycat off my mind.”

Henry looked over at her as he put a basket of rolls and a dish of homemade pickles on the table. “Do you think you know who it is, Violet?”

She shook her head. “No. But this person, whoever it is, sure knows a lot about Horace Wagner.”

“That’s true,” said Henry. “He or she knows a lot about Horace
and
his practical jokes.”

“Your first day on the job,” Aunt Jane said when they finally sat down at the table, “and already you’re knee-deep in a mystery.”

Benny grinned. “Grandfather says we attract mysteries the way a magnet attracts iron.”

“I’ll second that!” said Aunt Jane. Then a frown crossed her kind face. “I just hope you don’t get in over your heads.”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Jane,” said Jessie. “We’ll look out for one another.”

Aunt Jane smiled. “I know you will. That’s one thing I can always count on.”

Henry spoke up. “Aunt Jane, you said that Draper Mills has been running the farm for a long time, right?”

Aunt Jane nodded. “Ever since he was a young man. Most of the poetry he writes is about farm life. Draper’s an excellent poet, you know. He wrote a book of poetry called
Where the Buttercups Grow.
I believe Draper Mills loves that farm every bit as much as Miss Pennink does.” Aunt Jane paused for a moment. “In his heart, I think he’s glad to see it restored, thanks to Carl Mason.”

“I know one thing,” said Benny as he passed the rolls. “Mr. Mason sure isn’t the copycat!”

Henry lifted a slice of cold chicken onto his plate. “That’s true, Benny. Mr. Mason made it clear he doesn’t like jokes in the museum!”

Aunt Jane put down her fork. “Carl Mason does a good job, but I’m afraid I don’t share his views on everything. People often think of museums as boring and stuffy. Carl Mason’s prim and proper attitude isn’t going to do much to change that.”

“It’s funny that Horace
wasn’t
prim and proper,” Violet said, “even though he lived in the Victorian era. But Mr. Mason
is
prim and proper, and he
doesn’t
live in the Victorian era.”

Aunt Jane nodded. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? It’s almost as if some people were born in the wrong century.”

They grew quiet as they feasted on their delicious dinner. But when Benny started to pile his plate a second time, Aunt Jane spoke up. “Don’t forget to leave room for dessert,” she said. “It just so happens, we’re having something very special tonight.”

Benny’s eyes lit up. “Something special?”

Aunt Jane nodded as she took a sip of her iced tea. “A new ice-cream parlor just opened up in town. I thought we might give it a try. What do you think?”

Everyone thought it was a great idea. As they cleared the table, Henry had an idea, too. “When we’re in town,” he told them, “we can check out the pet store.”

Handing Benny more dishes, Violet gave Henry a confused look. “The pet store?”

“I think I know why,” said Jessie, who was standing at the sink, up to her elbows in soapsuds. “To find out if someone bought a canary recently. Right, Henry?”

“Oh,” exclaimed Violet. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s worth a shot,” said Henry as he reached for a dish towel.

Benny was grinning from ear to ear. “I bet we find out who the copycat is in no time flat!”

“I hope so, Benny,” said Henry. “I hope so.”

Aunt Jane and the four children sat down together in an empty booth near the window of Elmford’s new ice-cream parlor after dropping Violet’s film off at the one-hour photo shop.

“It certainly is busy in here,” commented Jessie as she glanced around at the crowded room with its decorations of brightly colored streamers and balloons.

Aunt Jane ran her hand admiringly over the soft, lavender-colored seats. “There’s a two-for-one special going on all week. It’s bound to attract customers.”

“Who’d want to pass up a deal like that?” exclaimed Henry as he opened a menu and glanced down at the long list of selections.

It only took them a few minutes to decide what they wanted. Their order included a banana split for Henry, a waffle cone with two scoops of black cherry ice cream for Jessie, a chocolate sundae with extra chocolate sprinkles for Benny, and strawberry milk shakes for Violet and Aunt Jane.

When the waiter brought their ice cream, Benny didn’t waste any time before digging right in. “Thanks, Aunt Jane,” he said. “This was a great idea.”

The other Aldens nodded in agreement. “It’s a perfect way to end the day,” said Jessie as she handed everyone a napkin from the shiny new dispenser.

Aunt Jane looked pleased. “It’s a well-deserved treat,” she said. “Sounds as if you had a very busy day at the farmhouse.”

“Well, we did spend all afternoon helping with the laundry demonstration,” Henry said.

Jessie nodded. “Now I know why Amanda Wagner didn’t like
that
chore!”

“Yes,” said Violet. “It really was hard work in the olden days.”

“They even had
unhappy
irons in the Victorian era!” added Benny.

“Oh, Benny!” Jessie ruffled her younger brother’s hair. “They’re called
sadirons.
Remember, Gwen told us
sad
can also mean
heavy.
”

Aunt Jane nodded. “I’ve heard some of those sadirons weighed as much as fifteen pounds.”

Suddenly familiar voices interrupted their conversation. When they looked over, they spotted Gwen and Sharon sitting at another booth. Sharon’s face was flushed, and her voice was raised in anger. Aunt Jane and the children didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they couldn’t help overhearing. The two sisters were almost shouting.

“You never listen, Gwen! I’m not interested in the same things you are! Why can’t you understand that?”

“I’m not going to sit back and let you make foolish choices,” replied Gwen. “You’ll thank me for it one day.”

“No, I won’t! I won’t thank you for ruining my life!”

“Oh, Sharon! Your life won’t be ruined just because you don’t take part in those silly fashion shows. You’ll be busy with your studies when school starts again. I don’t want you spending your weekends modeling when—”

Sharon suddenly leaped to her feet. “What about what I want? You’re not being fair!”

Gwen looked as if she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Instead, she just sat quietly while Sharon stormed out of the ice-cream parlor.

“Wow,” Henry whispered. “You weren’t kidding, Aunt Jane! Gwen and Sharon really don’t see eye to eye. Now they’re arguing about modeling.”

“I think Sharon’s a born model,” remarked Jessie, remembering how Gwen’s younger sister had somehow managed to get into every picture Jake North had taken during the laundry demonstration.

“Just like Benny’s a born ice-cream eater!” teased Henry as he watched his brother scraping chocolate sauce from the bottom of his dish.