Remarkable (17 page)

“I can’t believe we never thought of it before,” Melissa Grimlet said as she wrote TRUANCY in big
invisible letters in The Book of Dangerous Deeds and Dastardly Intentions.

“It was quite remiss of us,” Eddie agreed. “High time we got around to it. I feel quite pleased.”

“Me too,” Melissa said. “In fact, I think I feel even more pleased than you do.”

Of course, she was lying—and Eddie was lying, too. Neither one of them felt any pride in what they were doing that day. Down at the bottom of their tiny black hearts, they knew the real reason they were skipping school had nothing to do with adding another dastardly deed to their long list of dreadful accomplishments. The real reason was that they hadn’t finished their pirate homework and were scared of what Captain Schnabel might do to them when she found out.

The Grimlet twins hadn’t had time for homework. They’d spent every free minute on their science fair project instead—and even that hadn’t been entirely successful. The weather machine still needed a lot of work. Skipping school to make sure it would be ready in time was the only sensible thing to do—even if Melissa and Eddie would have denied being sensible just as vehemently as they would have denied being scared.

“You don’t think Captain Schnabel will come looking for us, do you?” Melissa asked. She tried to sound brave, but her hands were shaking just a little as she picked up the schematics for the weather machine.

Eddie gulped as he adjusted the settings on the weather machine’s barometer. “I can’t imagine she’d bother. She’s probably so busy with her pirate captaining that she won’t have even noticed that we’re not there.”

But of course, Ms. Schnabel had noticed. And she noticed when the Grimlet twins didn’t show up on Wednesday either. By Thursday, she was quite agitated about it.

“Whar be yer scurvy friends?” she asked Jane. Jane shrugged.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them.”

“What’s yer best guess as to their whereabouts then? Tell me or I’ll make you walk the plank again.”

“Um…” Jane said, thinking hard. “Maybe they’re off somewhere working on their science fair project.”

“You mean that science fair project be real? What kind o’ project is it?”

“Um…” Jane knew she was not supposed to tell
anyone about it, but she was pretty sure it was against the pirates’ code to keep secrets from the captain. “It’s a weather machine.”

“A machine that controls the weather? Well burn and sink me, that’d be something. Do ye think those two scoundrels can pull it off?”

“I don’t know,” Jane said. “They seem to think it will work.”

“Aye, if it does, they’ll win for sure.” Captain Schnabel flashed a grin as she thought of how much her sister would hate losing the science fair trophy to two public school students. Then her face returned to its stern, piratey scowl. “But they should give up that weather project of theirs and come back to learning the ways of the buccaneer. They could make a career out of it, they could.”

“Um…what about me?” Jane said. “Do you think piracy would be a good career for me?”

Captain Schnabel gave Jane a thoughtful, sympathetic look.

“Jane, me deary,” she said, “how can I put this all diplomatic-like? It be clear to me that you always try yer hardest—and I always say a hard-working pirate is the best kind. But not all captains are as savvy as I
am. You have a certain lack of aptitude that might get yerself thrown overboard.”

“Oh,” Jane said. “I was hoping I might be a good pirate. Maybe good enough to be as famous as Mad Captain Penzing the Horrific.”

“Mad Captain Penzing the Horrific? Where did you learn about the likes of that one?”

“In a book. I was going to do my report on Captain Rojo Herring, but the library didn’t have anything on him. So I checked out a book about Mad Captain Penzing the Horrific instead.”

“Bah!” Captain Schnabel said as if libraries were below contempt. “Ye don’t want to wind up like Mad Captain Penzing the Horrific. Yer grandmother would never speak to ye again if ye became a pirate, for one thing. And for another, that mad captain came to a sad, sad end.”

“She still got to be famous for a while,” Jane said. “They have a whole section in the library about her. Grandma would be impressed with me if I had my own section in the library. And Ysquibel even wrote an opera about her.”

“Bah!” Captain Schnabel said, as if opera was even more contemptible than libraries. “That’s not a good
enough reason. Yer not really the pirating type, young Jane, and being true to yer real self is the most important thing you can do with yer life.”

“My real self? But my real self isn’t good at anything.”

“Yer real self is exceptional at being an ordinary girl with good intentions who loves dogs. And that be a fine thing to be. You should work hard at being that.”

The dismissal bell rang. Jane started to gather up her belongings so that she could head home.

“I’ll see ye in the morning, spog,” Captain Schnabel said.

“See you tomorrow, Captain,” Jane replied as she headed out the classroom door.

But they were both very much mistaken. The next day was going to be full of surprises—the kind of surprises that meant they would not be seeing each other again for a long, long time.

W
hen Jeb, Ebb, and Flotsam fired Detective Burton Sly, they not only hurt his feelings, but also his sense of self-worth. He spent three days in his darkened office, soothing his wounded pride by playing solitaire and swigging aloe vera juice from a hip flask.

On the fourth day, he reminded himself of what he’d always taught his junior detectives: Good investigators never give up, and great investigators never fail. And since he was the greatest investigator of all, he knew he had no choice but to find the missing captain, even if his clients had lost faith in him.

He spent the rest of the week observing his number
one suspect until he had obtained all of the surveillance photos, wiretaps, and hard evidence he needed to take the next step—which was to confront said suspect with his allegations.

He strode briskly from his office to the suspect’s house, walked up the front steps past the potted plants, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, the door was opened by a woman who was entirely unfamiliar to him.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I am the esteemed Dr. Presnelda, head of Remarkable’s School for the Remarkably Gifted,” she answered with irritation. “What are you doing on my porch?”

“I’m Detective Burton Sly,” he replied. “I’ve come on an urgent matter. I am looking for a lost pirate captain.”

Dr. Presnelda went quite pale—a fact that might have been missed by a person less observant that Detective Sly. “I…” she said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have the wrong house.”

She tried to shut the door in his face, but the detective put his foot across the doorjamb to keep it from closing.

“Ma’am,” he said, “I do not have the wrong house. And furthermore, I sense you know something you aren’t telling me.”

“I don’t have to talk to you!”

“That won’t stop me from discovering the truth.”

“You don’t understand.” Dr. Presnelda was trembling now. “My place in this town, my reputation as an educator—it will all be destroyed if anyone ever found out…”

“I can be very discreet. You have to trust me. But it is of the utmost importance that you tell me what you know of Captain Rojo Herring.”

Dr. Presnelda’s confusion was as genuine as her relief. “I don’t know a Captain Rojo Herring. Captain Rojo Herring has nothing whatsoever to do with me.”

She once again tried to close the door, and Detective Burton Sly once again stopped her with his foot.

“Perhaps it’s an alias,” he suggested.

“Perhaps it isn’t,” Dr. Presnelda snapped.

“Perhaps the best thing would be for you to let me inside so we can clear this matter up.”

Dr. Presnelda led Detective Burton Sly to the living room. He slid his case file to her across the top of the coffee table. She flipped the file open and found herself
looking at the image of a pirate captain taken from a great distance through a telephoto lens. The image was fuzzy, but she recognized a familiar face wearing an expression she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“That’s not Captain Rojo Herring,” she said in a faint voice.

“Might I inquire as to how you are certain of this fact?”

“Because it’s someone else.”

“Who?”

“It’s a long story,” Dr. Presnelda told him. “And one that must absolutely be kept a secret. The shame on my family would be too great if the truth were known.”

“Ma’am, you have my word.”

And so Dr. Presnelda told him of her family’s terrible, horrible secret. It was a scandal so scandalous that her face burned red with shame as she spoke. Detective Burton Sly thought he’d seen and heard it all, but her story was enough to make even his mouth hang open with wonder.

W
hen Jane got home from school that day, she learned that she and her brother and sister had been summoned to City Hall by their grandmother.

“I wonder what she wants,” Penelope Hope said as the three of them walked over together.

“Who knows,” Anderson Brigby Bright said. The summons had interrupted his plans to pick up the tuxedo he was going to wear to the Science Fair Dance from Fairwick’s Formals. It was the finest tuxedo store in Remarkable—and therefore, the finest tuxedo store in the world.

But when they got to the mayor’s office, they
discovered that Grandmama was not there. Instead, they were greeted by Stilton.

“Your grandmother has signed an official proclamation excusing you from school tomorrow,” Stilton told them with a strained smile. The smile was strained because Stilton didn’t like smiling any more than he liked talking to children. “You are to attend the bell-tower ribbon-cutting ceremony as her special guests.”

“Do we have to?” Penelope Hope asked. She hated to miss school. She’d just started studying topographical algebra, which was much more interesting than a bell-tower ceremony.

“She told me to tell you that your presence is required.”

“But that’s not fair,” Jane said. “If I don’t go to school tomorrow, Captain Schnabel won’t have anyone to teach.”

“And I was planning on practicing my singing all day. The Science Fair Dance is tomorrow night!”

The smile on Stilton’s face became even more strained as he looked at Anderson Brigby Bright.

“Your grandmother specifically requested that you not sing at all tomorrow. In fact, she indicated to me
that this was the most important aspect of this proclamation.”

“Why?” Anderson Brigby Bright was indignant.

“She mentioned something about not subjecting the crowds to…”

“Not subjecting them to what? My voice is getting quite good now.”

“Ahhh, I think she mentioned something about being concerned about your singing destroying the goodwill of…”

“The people who’ve come to hear the bell tower would probably love to hear me. I’ll prove it now by singing a bit of ‘You Enchant Me, Yes You Do.’ It’s the song I’m going to serenade Lucinda with.”

He cleared his throat.
“YEWWW ENCHAHHHNT MEEEE, OW YESSSS YEWWWWW DOOOOO-ERGH.”
It was a horrible noise—the worst that had ever come out of his throat, which was saying something.

“Anderson Brigby Bright, stop it!” Penelope Hope shouted. “Stop it right now!”

“Or at least don’t do it while we’re in the same room as you,” Jane begged. “It’s too much.”

“What’s the matter with everyone!” Anderson
Brigby Bright was getting angry now. “I’m good at this! Really good. I’m really good at everything.” He stomped both feet this time.

“Of course you are,” Stilton lied soothingly. “But I think…um…yes, I think your grandmother did mention something about the importance of resting your voice. You don’t want to strain your vocal cords before your big performance.”

Anderson Brigby Bright nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of that. It’s a good point. A very good point. I would hate not to sound my best for Lucinda.”

“Wonderful,” Stilton said. “I’ll tell the mayor to expect the three of you tomorrow.”