The Orange Outlaw (3 page)

CHAPTER 6

“Josh, wake up.”

Dink shook Josh’s shoulder, then yanked the covers off him. “Come on, help me clean the kitchen before my uncle gets up.”

Josh mumbled something and pulled the covers back over himself.

“He made us breakfast …,” Dink said.

Josh shot out of the bed, tripping over his sneakers as he charged into the kitchen.

Ruth Rose was already there, washing the fruit bowl.

“I don’t see any food,” Josh grumbled.

“No, but you will after we get this mess cleaned up,” Dink told him. “Blueberry pancakes are my uncle’s specialty.”

Josh dropped into a chair. “I’ve been lied to,” he mumbled.

“Come on, Josh,” Dink said. “If we work together, we can have this done in ten minutes.”

“I’ll wash the floor,” Ruth Rose said, dragging a mop from a closet.

Dink handed Josh a damp sponge. “While you’re sitting there, wipe the chairs and tabletop.”

“I thought we were going to talk to Mrs. Cornelius this morning,” Josh said, giving the table a fast swipe.

“We are.” Dink opened his uncle’s address book. “I’m calling her right now.”

When Dink had Mrs. Cornelius on the line, he introduced himself and asked if they could visit her for a few minutes. He thanked her and hung up.

“We can go down as soon as we’re done cleaning up,” he said. “Let’s get to work!”

Dink turned the radio on low, and they cleaned to country songs.

“Hey, look what I found!” Josh said. He held up a long orange hair. “It was caught on the back of this chair.”

Dink and Ruth Rose walked over and studied the hair. “Looks like one of yours, Josh,” Ruth Rose said.

“Is not,” Josh said. “My hair is red, not this orange color. And mine’s a
lot
cleaner!”

Ruth Rose took the hair and held it up to the light. “Miss Booker has orange hair,” she said.

“We can check her out later,” Dink said. He folded the hair inside a paper towel and stuck it in his pocket. “Let’s finish up and go see Mrs. Cornelius.”

Ten minutes later, the kids quietly left the apartment. They found the stairs and walked down one floor. Dink knocked on Mrs. Cornelius’s door.

It was opened by a woman who had white hair and was wearing a fuzzy robe. Behind thick eyeglasses, her pale blue eyes looked huge.

“Good morning!” Mrs. Cornelius chirped. “I see I’m not the only one who likes to get up with the birds. Come in, come in!”

Using a cane, she led them into a cheerful living room. “Please sit on the sofa, where I can see you,” she said.

The kids lined up on the sofa. Mrs. Cornelius sat opposite them. She leaned close and studied their faces.

“Now tell me why three children have come to visit an old lady like me,” she said.

Dink told Mrs. Cornelius about the stolen painting.

“Goodness!” she said. “I always miss the excitement. When did it happen, dear?”

“Last night, during the block party,” Ruth Rose said.

Mrs. Cornelius clapped her hands.

“That prowler I saw on my balcony must have been the thief!” she said. “I’m a witness!”

“Um, we were wondering if you could tell us what happened.”

Using her cane for support, Mrs. Cornelius stood up. “Come with me.” She walked to her balcony. “Pull those drapes, dear,” she said to Josh.

When the drapes were opened, the kids looked out onto the balcony. It was just like Uncle Warren’s, except that several bird feeders were attached to the balcony railing.

“I love to feed the birds, but I have trouble seeing them,” Mrs. Cornelius said. “That’s why I bought this!”

She pointed to a round magnifying glass about the size of a pie plate. It was stuck to the inside of the balcony’s glass door.

Dink looked curiously through the
magnifying glass. “Wow, everything looks bigger!” he said.

“Isn’t it fun?” Mrs. Cornelius said. “I heard a noise last night, so I walked over and peeked through the drapes. Someone was on the balcony!”

“What did he look like?” Dink asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Mrs. Cornelius said. She took a pad out of the pocket of her robe and handed it to Dink.

Written in large, spidery letters were the words:

Dink gulped when he read the last two words:

CHAPTER 7

“Still think the crook is Mrs. Cornelius?” Dink asked as they walked back up to the tenth floor.

“Mrs. Cornelius’s description sure does sound like Miss Booker,” Ruth Rose admitted.

Dink laughed. “Bad posture, baggy clothes, orange hair—sounds more like Josh!”

He opened the door to his uncle’s apartment.

“There you are,” Uncle Warren said. “Thank you for cleaning up. What a
lovely surprise! Ready for blueberry pancakes?”

“I am!” Josh said, heading for the kitchen.

After taking his first bite of pancake, Dink reached into his pocket for the folded paper towel. He pulled out the orange hair and showed it to his uncle.

“Josh found this stuck to one of the chairs,” he said. “We think it came from the crook.”

Dink’s uncle studied the hair. “This is odd-looking. Wait, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he said.

The kids heard cupboard doors opening and closing. A minute later, Dink’s uncle was back, carrying a small wooden box.

He moved the pancake platter to one side and set the box in its place. Then he pulled off the lid, revealing a shiny microscope. He plugged the
microscope’s cord into a wall outlet.

“Josh, may I have one of your hairs?” he asked.

“Sure.” Josh grimaced as he yanked out a hair. Then he passed the hair to Uncle Warren.

Dink’s uncle laid both hairs on a glass slide, then placed the slide under the microscope lens. He adjusted the scope and put one eye to it.

“Well, I think it’s a real hair,” Uncle Warren said after a minute. “But it’s very different from yours, Josh. Take a look. Your hair is the one on the right.”

Josh bent over the scope. “All I see is nothing,” he said.

“Try closing one eye,” Uncle Warren said.

“Wow, that’s better!” Josh said. “The hairs look like tree trunks!”

Ruth Rose was next. “The hairs do look different,” she said. “Look, Dink.”

Dink closed one eye and peered
through the lens. The hair on the right was thin and smooth-looking. The one on the left was fatter and more orange than the other one.

“Mrs. Cornelius told us she saw someone on her balcony with orange hair,” Dink said.

“She did?” Uncle Warren said.

Ruth Rose nodded. “She has this neat magnifying glass attached to her balcony door,” she said. “So she can watch the birds at her feeders.”

“I looked through it,” Dink told his
uncle. “It makes stuff look bigger and clearer.” He told his uncle how Mrs. Cornelius had described the person on her balcony.

“Baggy coat and poor posture? Well, well. Maybe she really did see our thief!” Uncle Warren said. “I’d better call Detective Costello.”

While his uncle dialed the phone, Dink motioned for Josh and Ruth Rose to follow him. They left the apartment, but Dink walked past the elevator.

“Where are we going?” Josh asked. “I wanted a few more of those pancakes.”

“Let’s walk down,” Dink said, shoving open the exit door. “I don’t want anyone to see us.”

“See us what?” Ruth Rose asked.

“I want to get one of Miss Booker’s hairs,” Dink said. “And I don’t want Roger to see us, just in case they’re partners.”

“So now you think they did it together?” Josh asked.

“I don’t know, but we can’t take any chances,” Dink said.

“Oh, boy,” Josh said, skipping down the stairs.

Dink and Ruth Rose followed Josh. “How do you plan to get a hair?” Ruth Rose asked.

Dink shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted.

Out of breath, the kids finally reached the lobby. Dink peeked around the corner to make sure Roger wasn’t watching; then they hurried out the rear exit.

They didn’t see Miss Booker behind the building. Josh took a look down the alley, but she wasn’t there either.

“Let’s look out front,” Ruth Rose suggested.

Dink and Josh followed Ruth Rose
down the alley. They were halfway to the front of the building when Ruth Rose bent down and picked something off the ground.

Dink and Josh caught up and looked over her shoulder.

Ruth Rose was holding a Polaroid snapshot. It was a picture of a framed painting.

Dink gasped when he recognized the rowboat floating on a pond.

“It’s a picture of the stolen painting!” he said.

CHAPTER 8

In the photograph, the painting stood on a table. Part of a window was also visible, with buildings in the distance.

Josh asked, “What’s this doing in the alley?”

“I think I know,” Ruth Rose said. “The thief must have used this picture to identify the painting. After he stole it, he threw the picture away.”

“If the thief tossed the picture here, that means he probably
did
climb down the balconies,” Dink said.

“You mean
she,”
Josh said.

Ruth Rose shook her head. “But if Miss Booker did it,” she asked, “why would she tell us she can climb buildings? Wouldn’t that just point the finger at her?”

“Maybe she’s giving us false clues,” Josh said. “She tells us she can climb the building and drops this picture in the alley. But all the time, she probably just went through the front door with her key.”

“No matter who stole the painting,” Dink said, “the crook’s fingerprints should be on this picture.” He carefully slipped the snapshot inside his shirt. “We have to show it to my uncle!”

The kids ran down the alley to the front of the building. Weekend traffic whizzed by. A few people hurried toward the subway stop. A man in gray work clothes was sweeping up litter.

A mound of litter stood at the
entrance to the alley. As the kids walked past, Josh accidentally kicked the pile.

“Hey watch your step there, young fella,” said the man with the broom.

“Sorry,” Josh said, stepping away from the litter. Using his foot, he scraped the stuff back together.

Then he knelt down and picked something out of the debris. “Hey, guys, look!” Josh held up an orange peel.

The man with the broom chuckled. “There was a block party here last night,” he said. “A guy had a trailer with an orangutan and a pony parked right here. Man, that orangutan sure ate a lot of oranges!”

Dink took the peel from Josh and looked at it carefully. Caught in the peel was a long orange hair.

Ruth Rose peered over Dink’s shoulder. “It’s just like the hair Josh
found in the kitchen!” she said.

Josh looked back up the alley. “Guys,” he said, “Miss Booker didn’t climb up those balconies. That orangutan did!”

Ruth Rose’s eyes grew wide. “Orangutans
are
great climbers!” she said.

“And they have long orange hair and eat fruit!” said Josh.

Dink stared at Josh and Ruth Rose. “You mean you think the orangutan is the thief?”

“Why not?” Josh said. “People train orangutans to do all kinds of stuff. Why couldn’t one be taught to steal a painting?”

Dink tapped the snapshot inside his shirt. “If you’re right, his fingerprints should be on this,” he said.

“Do orangutans even
have
fingerprints?” Ruth Rose asked.

Dink shrugged. “Whoever gave him the picture would have left
his
fingerprints, too.”

“His trainer!” Josh said.

Ruth Rose nodded. “Yep. The orangutan might have taken the painting, but the real thief is the person who taught him how!”