Authors: Elizabeth Foley
W
hile Jane and Grandpa fed figgy doodles to Lucky, Grandmama Julietta Augustina was surveying the wreckage of the bell tower. It was hard to believe that only yesterday it had stood so proudly in the middle of town. Now it was just a pile of twisted metal, crushed cement, and splintered wood.
“And we never even got to hear its song,” Taftly Wocheywhoski said. The tower’s fifty-seven bells were dented and scattered across the post office lawn. He was surprised to find that there were tears in his eyes.
Angelina Mona Linda Doe was also on the verge of weeping. Her masterpiece—the crown jewel of all her
architectural achievements—was gone forever. All of those months of planning and scheduling—all of those pie charts, graphs, lists, and spreadsheets—had been for nothing.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “The tower was structurally sound enough to withstand that storm. Only something incredibly powerful could have knocked it over.”
“Maybe lightning struck it?” Grandmama said.
“Lightning couldn’t have caused this much damage. It looks like it was hit by a bulldozer.”
“Maybe it was. Maybe that crazy old man who stole the ropes yesterday came back during the storm and bulldozed it while no one was around,” Taftly Wocheywhoski said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Grandmama told him. “That’s my husband you’re talking about.”
“You’re married?”
“Of course. I’ve been married for years and years. You know that.”
“And your husband is a crazy bulldozer driver?”
“I thought I told you to stop being ridiculous. My husband is not even remotely crazy, and furthermore, he had nothing to do with this.”
“How can you be so sure?” Taftly Wocheywhoski demanded.
“Because my husband spent last night in jail. And besides, Detective Burton Sly took three suspects into custody this morning. Isn’t that right, detective?”
Detective Burton Sly had been crawling around on the ground with a magnifying glass, looking for clues in the bell tower’s destruction. He stood to join the conversation.
“That’s correct, Madam Mayor. One of my junior detectives spotted three men fleeing from the scene shortly after the bell tower was wrecked. The men were apprehended, identified as pirates, and taken to jail for questioning.”
“You see, Taftly? Pirates did it. Not my husband.”
“Ahem,” Detective Burton Sly said as he shook his head. “Madam Mayor, as much as it pains me to contradict you, I don’t think those pirates are the culprits. They had neither the strength nor the cunning to wreak this kind of havoc.”
“Aha!” Taftly Wocheywhoski said. “So it was that crazy old bulldozer driver.”
Detective Burton Sly shook his head once more.
“No. It was someone else entirely. Or should I say, something else entirely. Observe.”
He pointed to the ground. Grandmama, Taftly Wocheywhoski, and Angelina Mona Linda Doe gasped. There, in the mud, was a series of giant, three-toed footprints leading from the wreckage of the bell tower down to the lakeshore. They were the kind of footprints that could only have been made by a largish cryptozoological creature, and they were the first sign in a long time that Lucky was alive and well in Lake Remarkable.
“Well, well, well,” Grandmama Julietta Augustina said. “Would you look at that.” She turned back to Detective Burton Sly. “I need you to assemble a team of your finest junior detectives. I want them to document and collect every shred of evidence at this scene. I want to send the Scottish Parliament irrefutable proof that a large and particularly elusive lake monster lives here.”
“Madam Mayor, for such an important endeavor, perhaps it would be best if I collected the evidence myself.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I have another assignment for you, and it’s simply much too important to trust to a lesser detective.”
Detective Burton Sly nodded. “I’m at your service,
Madam Mayor. Just tell me what it is you want me to do.”
Meanwhile, Dr. Bayonet arrived at his office. It had been a long time since he’d set foot in it—a very long time—but nonetheless, he was surprised to discover that he hardly recognized his own waiting room. He could have sworn he’d hung framed pictures of butterflies on the wall, but now they seemed to have been replaced by posters which decried the evils of poor oral health. He didn’t remember leaving all of those packed moving boxes in the corner either. Then he noticed a series of wet circles leading through the waiting room into the exam room. Someone had broken in! And that someone had been walking around on stilts.
Alarmed, he opened the exam room door and looked inside. There he saw a wet and unkempt pirate sleeping soundly in his dental chair—a dental chair that he was sure had been covered in red upholstery, not blue.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dr. Bayonet bellowed. “Who are you?” The bedraggled-looking fellow jumped to his feet—or rather, to his peg legs.
“I am Captain Rojo Herring,” the startled man replied.
“Why are you sleeping in my exam room?”
“Um…” Captain Rojo Herring said unhelpfully. “Um…I’m not exactly sure.” He remembered being kidnapped. He remembered the fierce storm, and he even remembered closing his eyes as Lucky charged toward him, ready to tear him to pieces.
Only she hadn’t. Instead of chomping him in her powerful jaw, she’d gently grabbed him by the scruff of his pirate jacket and carried him up to the surface. Next thing Captain Rojo Herring knew, he was being dropped on solid ground some distance away from the lake. He scrambled to his feet just in time to see Lucky lurch wildly away. Moments later, he’d heard the horrible sound of splitting wood and clanging metal—just as if a structure holding fifty-seven bells had been smashed to smithereens by a large cryptozoological creature with a powerful tail—which, incidentally, was exactly what had happened.
“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” Dr. Bayonet said sternly. But Captain Rojo Herring still didn’t have one. His memories of what happened after he was rescued from the lake were hazy and
strange. Maybe he’d banged his head when Lucky dropped him on the shore. Maybe he’d just accidentally drunk too much lake water. He’d heard the shouts of his pirate crew as they started to search for him. He knew they would find him soon if he didn’t get moving.
As he staggered away from Jeb, Ebb, and Flotsam, Captain Rojo Herring found himself drawn toward the dentist’s office. It was almost as if destiny—or something larger than destiny—was guiding him there. The door was unlocked when he arrived, and the office was quiet and dry. As he made himself comfortable in the dentist’s chair, he was overcome with the feeling that for the first time ever, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was a very strong impression, and a very nice one, too. It was also, oddly enough, not so different than the wonderful sensation he’d had when he first laid eyes on his mystery woman.
Of course, by the cool light of day, it all seemed a bit dramatic and ridiculous. Had he really believed fate had guided him to a dentist’s office? Why on earth would fate do such a thing?
“I’m afraid I have made some sort of a mistake,
Dr. Pike,” he told Dr. Bayonet. “I do hope you’ll pardon the intrusion.”
“Dr. Pike? Who the devil is Dr. Pike?”
“I assumed you were. That’s what the name says on your office door.”
Dr. Bayonet turned and looked. The pirate was right. His door did say Dr. Pike on it.
“Someone is playing tricks on me,” Dr. Bayonet said crossly. Then the door opened, and much to Dr. Bayonet’s amazement, another dentist walked in.
“Ah,” the mystery dentist said. “You must be from the moving company. I wasn’t expecting you so early after that storm last night.”
“Moving company?” Dr. Bayonet said. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
“I’m Dr. Pike. This is my dental office.”
“No it isn’t! It’s where I work,” Dr. Bayonet told her, sounding even more cross. It had been a very trying day.
“I assure you, this has been my dental office for two years. But if you feel strongly about working here, I suppose you can have it. I’m leaving for a new job anyway.”
“No!” screeched Captain Rojo Herring. “No! No! No! No! No!” Both dentists turned to stare at him.
“You can’t leave!” Captain Rojo Herring tried to explain. “I came here to find you! That’s what destiny was trying to tell me.” His mouth widened into a loopy smile of love.
Dr. Pike smiled back—but her smile was a smile of professional glee, not love. All of the generic jelly from Munch that Captain Rojo Herring had eaten had done terrible things to his enamel and his gums—and she was now looking at the most beautiful set of rotten teeth she’d seen in a long, long time.
D
etective Burton Sly was on a mission. It was the mission that the mayor had entrusted him with, and it was of the utmost importance.
“It would appear that the Grimlet twins have developed a real working weather machine,” Grandmama had told Detective Burton Sly before sending him on his way. She was a little impressed, despite herself. “Of course, they can’t be allowed to keep it. Think of the trouble they’ll cause.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Detective Burton Sly said. He’d already prepared extensive dossiers on the Grimlet twins and had some pretty good ideas about where to
look. “Do you want me to haul them off to jail when I find them? We can make room.”
“Oh dear lord, no. They’d adore being arrested. Anyway, there’s no law against creating a storm.”
“Yes, ma’am. I suppose you’re right.”
“And please inform them that they’ve won first place in the science fair. They’ve certainly earned it, and I can’t think of anything they’d hate more.”
It did not take Detective Burton Sly long to find the weather machine. He’d gotten some tips, followed a few leads, and then finally tracked the Grimlet twins’ movements up Mount Magnificent to the most secluded spot in all of Remarkable. He’d expected that he’d find the Grimlet twins with their invention, but they were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found Ms. Schnabel. She was sitting on the muddy ground in a clearing and staring at the weather machine with a look of great sadness and longing.
“I suppose yer ’ere to claim this ’ere weather machine for Mayor Doe,” she said. She hadn’t looked up when Detective Burton Sly arrived. Until she spoke, he wasn’t sure if she knew he was there.
“Yes, ma’am. She asked me to make sure it was not in the possession of the Grimlet twins.”
“Aye, makes sense, that does. But I’ve already done ’alf yer job for ye. I be the one who turned it off and chased those scurvy Grimlet twins back to their house. Little buggers would a kept that storm going all week if I ’adn’t.”
Detective Burton Sly stepped forward to examine the weather machine. It was bigger than a breadbox, smaller than a convection oven, and had a complex control panel comprised of barometers, thermostats, hygrometers, and anemometers. It was hard to believe that something so small could have wreaked so much havoc.
“I can see I’ll need to keep a closer eye on those Grimlet twins,” he said.
Ms. Schnabel snorted. “And good luck to ye wiv that.”
“This is, of course, bad news for me since I recently discovered that Remarkable is home to one of the most notorious lawbreakers in the world. I’ll have to keep my eye on her as well.”
“Wot’s that supposed to mean?” Ms. Schnabel demanded, but the detective did not answer her. He
was attempting to pick up the weather machine, but he underestimated its weight and pulled several muscles.
“My back!” he cried as he staggered around the clearing. “I think I’ve thrown my back out!” He collapsed on the ground, twitching with pain.
“I could o’ told ye it was heavy,” Ms. Schnabel said unhelpfully.
“But you’re rather strong, aren’t you? Perhaps you could assist me in taking it back to town?”
“That all depends,” Ms. Schnabel said. “Wot’s the mayor plannin’ on doing wiv it when you gets it to ’er?”
“I suspect she’ll destroy it. We certainly don’t want anyone tinkering with our weather again.”
“Aye, but what a shame that be,” Ms. Schnabel said, hoisting the weather machine onto her shoulder as if it weighed no more than a baby. “Seems like such a contraption could ’ave its uses.”
“Yes, indeed,” Detective Burton Sly said, wincing as he dragged himself back to his feet. “For example, I suspect it would be quite handy if one were interested in raising a ship from the bottom of the Sea of Cortez.”
Ms. Schnabel stared at him, astonished. “Wot do ye know about the Sea of Cortez?”
“I think everyone knows of the fate of
The Wild Three O’Clock
, Captain Penzing.”
Ms. Schnabel set the weather machine back down. Her astonishment transformed into amazement. “Ye knows who I am?”
“Of course I do. I am the world’s greatest detective,” Detective Burton Sly replied modestly. “Also, your sister was kind enough to confide in me.”
“Gar! She has a mouth bigger than Moby Dick.”
“I can assure you that I would have figured it out even without her help. I’d already learned that there is no such person as Ms. Delilah Schnabel. And more importantly, I learned that the person who was living under the name of Ms. Delilah Schnabel arrived in town and started working as a teacher at the public school seven years ago. And it was roughly nine years ago that a certain Mad Captain Penzing was released from prison and into the custody of her family.”