Dunc and the Scam Artists (2 page)

Amos shook his head. “No, it doesn’t seem funny to me at all. Those things can both be easily explained. Besides, if you’re really all that concerned, why don’t you just call the police and let them check it out?”

“We need to tie it all together so we have enough evidence to nab the creep.”

“Stop talking like that. I’ve told you before, you watch too many cop shows.”

“Look Amos, I told my dad. He wasn’t concerned. I don’t think the cops will be either—yet.”

“I can understand that. I’m not concerned and I’ve been in on it right from the start. Come on, let’s go down to the river or play video games or something normal for a change.”

Dunc wasn’t paying any attention. He was thinking out loud. “What we need is a plan. We could scale the wall and climb in a top-story window. Or maybe we could learn karate and take the guy out.”

Amos shook his head. His friend’s crazy ideas were nothing new, but this time he had
his mind made up. Nothing could make him get involved in this. Not even an army could force him to take on that guy who had yelled through the crack in the door. If there was something weird going on out there, he was certainly not going to be involved in it. No way.

Dunc had that strange look on his face. “I think I know how to do it. It won’t be hard at all. In fact, you’ll probably enjoy your part.”

“You never listen to me Duncan Culpepper.”

Dunc put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I always listen to you. Didn’t I help you get a good grade in Trasky’s class on your Civil War paper? Don’t I always try to help you get Melissa to notice you, even though she’d rather you would drop dead? Listening is one of my best points. I just need your cooperation in one tiny little area and after that we’re home free.”

Amos eyed him suspiciously. “I know I’m going to be sorry for asking you this, but what exactly do you have in mind?”

“I was hoping you’d ask. We have to get inside that house and look around.”

Amos shook his head. “I’m not dressing up like a girl again, so just forget that.”

“No, no, nothing like that. One of us will
have to distract the creep inside while the other one sneaks around back.”

“Let me just guess who gets to take on the creep.”

“I
would
do it Amos, really I would, but he’s already seen me. Besides, I’m only trying to help you.”

“Help me? How do you figure that?”

“Well, if this deal works out, like I’m sure it will, you’re going to play the most important part in rescuing a helpless little old lady from who knows what awful fate. Some girls really go for the hero type.”

“Some girls …”

“Melissa. Maybe.”

“Melissa …”

Dunc stopped then. He knew when he’d won.

“Do you remember what you’re going to do?”

“Of course I remember. How could anybody dressed like this forget what they’re supposed to do?”

Dunc looked his friend up and down. Amos was wearing a red jacket with a double row of black buttons down the front. On his head was a round red hat with black elastic holding it on under his chin. “I think you really look the part, but try to be careful with the hat and coat, okay? I borrowed them from Melissa Hansen’s mother. Her cousin used to do this for a living.”

“Melissa Hansen? You saw Melissa?”

“Just for a second. I remembered her mother telling my mother that she had a cousin who delivered singing telegrams, so I borrowed the suit. Roll up the sleeves a little.”

“You went to
Melissa’s
house without me?”

“I had to borrow the suit Amos. Don’t worry, maybe you can help me take it back. Let’s get down to business. Why don’t you practice your part one more time, okay?”

“Man, I can’t believe you actually went to her house and didn’t tell me …”

“Amos, pay attention. Let’s practice your part.”

“What did she say? Did she ask about me at all?”

“No, but I really wasn’t there all that long. Are you going to practice or what?”

“Okay, but only if you give me your solemn promise to let me take the suit back with you. Promise?”

“I promise. Now, do your part.”

“Dunc, I really don’t sing so hot. Can’t I just talk the guy a message?”

“No. We’ve been over and over this. Nobody interrupts a singer until he’s through. So just keep singing while I make my way around back
and look for Mrs. Dell. Now come on. You have to practice.”

“Here goes nothing,” Amos shrugged.

A strange look came into Amos’s eyes. He smiled, threw his arms out to the side and started to really get into the singing.

Amos wound up on one knee on the floor, his hands out, a happy smile on his face.

Dunc stared at him. “Ahh—that’s great Amos. Try to work on that shyness a little, all right?”

“How was the delivery?”

Dunc nodded. “Great. Great delivery.”

“Good. I want to give it my best, you know.”

It took the boys forty-five minutes to get across town to the Dell place. The rusty gate creaked as the boys went through.

Dunc hid across from the house in the weeds beside the shed as Amos cautiously approached the house. He knocked on the front door. No answer. He started off the porch and the door opened.

“May I help you young man?” It was a sweet elderly voice, and a small, elderly woman opened the door.

Amos looked at the little old lady in front of him. “I—that is, I—are you Mrs. Dell?”

“Why yes, dear. What can I do for you?”

“You can’t do much for me, but I have a friend you can sure straighten out.”

Amos waved wildly at Dunc.

Dunc came out of the bushes and walked up onto the porch. “Mrs. Dell?”

“Yes, I’m Mrs. Dell. What’s going on here boys?”

Dunc explained about his last trip out to her house and about the strange man at the door and everything.

“You boys look tired. Come in the house. Let me get you some lemonade and we’ll visit.”

They were ushered into the living room and were served cookies and homemade lemonade. They sat on an overstuffed couch while the woman spoke to them.

“You see boys, that was my nephew Frank. Sometimes he’s a little bit overprotective. I really appreciate your concern, though.”

“Are you satisfied now?” Amos asked as they pushed their bikes through the old gate and headed back down the dirt road.

Dunc started to answer, but a little black poodle ran up to him, wiggling and waggling its tail.

“Where did you come from boy?” Dunc pulled his bike over to the side of the road.

“He’s my baby boys. His name is Napoleon.”

A gray-haired lady wearing an old, tattered straw hat with a dozen different kinds of flowers on it came from the side of the road, reached down and picked up the dog. She was holding a shovel in one hand and had obviously been working in her yard.

“My name is Cora Hawkins. Some folks call me Crazy Cora Hawkins. I don’t mind. I live
right up the road. I saw you boys coming out of that thieves’ hideout. Are you part of the gang?”

Dunc pointed at Amos. “He delivers telegrams and I’m just along for the ride. What makes you think there’s a gang in that old house?” Dunc asked.

The old lady grinned. Two of her front teeth were missing. She shook her head and turned and walked away.

“They’re up to no good over there. No good I tell you,” she mumbled over her shoulder.

“It’s really not fair,” Amos said. “She didn’t even look at me. The only thing she said was, ‘Thanks for returning the suit.’ I think she was talking to you.”

“Cut it out Amos. I’m sure she noticed you. You tripped over her dog and fell into her rose bushes and almost killed her cat. She had to notice you.”

The boys were in Dunc’s bedroom cutting out newspaper clippings for a current events project.

Dunc read one headline out loud: “ ‘Elderly Taken In By Con Artist.’ Look at this. Some guy posing as a long-lost relative convinces
these old people to sign over all their property and bank accounts to him. Maybe we ought to look—”

Amos held up both hands. “Hold it right there. Look at the way the last deal you got me into turned out. You had me dress up in a monkey suit because you thought some lady was buried out in a shed or something.”

“I never said she was buried in the shed. But something sure was. Listen to the description of this guy. He’s unusually tall, has dark hair and a mustache. It sounds just like him.”

“Like who?”

“Him. You know—the creep in the house.”

“Come off it Dunc. You never even really saw him. You only heard his voice. Don’t tell me you know what he looks like from a voice,”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he was tall and I’m almost positive I saw a mustache. It could be him. We’d better check it out just in case.”

As they rode their bikes to the retirement village, Amos pulled up close to Dunc. “How do I let you talk me into these things? I’m hungry, I’m tired, and this is a waste of time.”

“It won’t hurt to talk to these people and
when we get through we’ll go over to Poncho’s Pizza Palace—my treat.”

Dunc pulled out a list of retirement village residents who had been taken in, that he had cut out of the newspaper. The first lady on the list was very nice but really did not remember a lot. She kept asking the boys their names. She thought they were selling magazine subscriptions.

But the next man remembered the con artist. He had driven a blue car, he said—but then again, it might have been brown.

After that, every resident they talked to said one thing that was the same: The crook had gotten away with their life savings and property or the investments they had made. He had always told them he was their great-grandson, nephew, or close family friend.

The police didn’t have any leads—this guy was smooth. They knew he worked with a partner but no one had any idea who the unseen accomplice was.

Dunc and Amos rode in silence to the pizza place. Dunc was still immersed in thought while he was eating but Amos was really getting into his pizza. He had sauce in his hair, on
his nose, and all over his face, down his shirt, in his lap, and on his hands up to his elbows.

They were just about to polish off an entire Poncho’s Big Blob—about like eating a cheese-covered Buick—when a group of girls walked past their table.

“Melissa,” Dunc said, looking up. “Nice to see you.”

Melissa paused, smiled at Dunc, then looked down at Amos—covered in sauce and cheese. She turned and walked away.

“I guess she didn’t know you.” Dunc watched the girls go over to the video games. “Look Amos, there has to be a way to catch this guy. We can’t just let him get away with it.”

“That’s probably it,” Amos said.

“What?”

“She probably didn’t see me because of the sauce and cheese. She won’t know it was me.”

“Amos, we’ve got more important stuff to worry about.”

“Maybe I ought to clean up and go over there and try again.”

“No Amos, I think you’ve impressed her enough for one day.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. I figure she saw you finishing that Big Blob. Not too many guys can handle one of those.”

“Do you really think so? I could order another one—”

“Come on Amos, we’ve got work to do.”