Mr. Pin: The Chocolate Files

Mr. Pin: The Chocolate Files

Mary Elise Monsell

ATHENEUM BOOKS BY

MARY ELISE MONSELL

The Mysterious Cases of Mr. Pin

Crackle Creek

Mr. Pin: The Chocolate Files

With love to Susan and Sarah

—M. E. M
.

Contents

The Case of the Missing Conductor

A Case of Stolen Eggs

The Case of the Missing Conductor

1

It was midnight and Chicago was cold. Smiling Sally's diner was closed for the night. But a light was on in the back room. Mr. Pin, famous crime-solving rock hopper penguin, was listening to opera.

Mr. Pin had come from the South Pole to be a detective. He had saved Smiling Sally's from being blown up by ruthless gangsters. Since then, the diner was his home.

The wind blew newspapers down the alley. Mr. Pin put on his checked cap and red muffler and hopped up onto a crate. Then he raised a pencil into the air and pretended to conduct the opera on the radio.

Suddenly, there was a loud
screech
in the alley. It wasn't the wind and it wasn't the opera. The penguin detective dropped his pencil and hopped off his crate.

Quickly, Mr. Pin put out the light and grabbed a heavy rag mop. He was ready for trouble and trouble seemed to be breaking into the back door of the diner.

Just then, the penguin detective smelled something different. Feathers, he thought. But the feathers weren't his. As the back door opened slowly, a feather boa fluttered in the draft. A dark figure stepped inside.

“Stop right there,” ordered Mr. Pin. “I have a large mop.”

“Please,” said a high-pitched voice. “I need your help.”

“Help,” said Mr. Pin. “Then you'll have to come into my office.” With that, Mr. Pin lowered the mop and led the way for the figure in black.

“What's going on?” said Maggie, who appeared in her bathrobe, red hair in all directions. She lived upstairs with her aunt Sally, two gerbils, and a CB radio.

“I'm sorry if it sounded like I was breaking in,” said the high voice in the dark. “But I am very famous. I think there might be trouble and I didn't want anyone to see me come here.”

Maggie followed the sound of creaking floorboards to Mr. Pin's room. Then she switched on the light.

The dark figure was a lady dressed in a long black coat and pink feather boa. She had thin eyebrows and her lipstick was bright red. “Let me introduce myself,” she said. “
I
am Berta Largamente, the opera singer. I think there is going to be a crime at the opera house.”

“Crime?” asked Mr. Pin, standing on his typing crate. “What crime are you worried about?”

Maggie sat down on a box of canned tomatoes and took notes. Berta took the only chair, next to the radio, which was still playing opera music.

“I think the conductor is going to be kidnapped,” said Berta loudly.

“Kidnapped,” said Maggie. “That's serious. Did you call the police?”

“Well, no. I haven't called them yet, but the conductor is acting strangely,” explained the opera singer. Then she hurried on, saying, “He's been showing up late. He looks very worried and he's missed my singing cues. I also found a note.”

“What about a note? What did it say?” asked Mr. Pin. He turned the radio volume down.

“The note said ‘Danger ahead. Watch your step.'” Then to the two detectives, Berta added, “I found it on his music stand.”

“On his music stand …” repeated Mr. Pin. “The conductor could be in trouble. When can I talk to him?”

“Then you
will
help. I heard you were a famous detective. I wasn't sure you'd take the case.” Then Berta added, “You can see him tomorrow night at the opera.”

“We'll need tickets,” said Mr. Pin.

“Of course,” said Berta. “The tickets will be at the box office. You'll have to sit at the top, the very top. The best seats are at the top.”

“Why is that?” asked Maggie.

“The sound,” said Mr. Pin, “is best at the top.”

Screech!

“Oh, that's my limousine,” said Berta. “I told my driver to go around the block. I need to go. Thank you for your help. I hope you like my solo tomorrow night.” Maggie got up to open the back door.

“I was just wondering …” Mr. Pin started to say. But Berta didn't hear him and neither did Maggie. Maggie watched the opera star step quickly into the alley, a cloud of pink feathers fluttering behind her. Then Maggie locked up and went upstairs.

“I wonder,” said Mr. Pin, this time to himself. “Why didn't Berta call the police?” Then Mr. Pin turned the radio volume up a little. He tapped his pencil on the crate. And as the limousine fishtailed down the alley, Mr. Pin conducted again.

2

It was morning and Mr. Pin was barely awake. But the smell of Smiling Sally's hot cinnamon rolls was too much for the hungry penguin. He put on his red muffler and headed for the steamy diner.

A row of truckers sat at the counter while Smiling Sally poured coffee and served buttery rolls.

“Come on in,” she said to each trucker. “Food's good and you meet interesting people.”

Mr. Pin sat down at the counter next to Luigi, who drove a pasta truck. Luigi was talking to a well-dressed man who called himself Mac.

“I love opera,” said Luigi to Mac. “I always wanted to be an opera singer. Sometimes I sing in my truck when I make pasta deliveries.”

“What do you sing?” asked Mac. He was pouring chocolate syrup over his eggs. “By the way, this is great chocolate.”

“Tenor,” said Luigi. “And thanks. I sell the chocolate to Sally, along with fresh pasta.”

“Where do you sing?” asked Mac.

“In my truck,” said Luigi.

“We're going to hear the opera tonight,” Maggie said as she came in from the kitchen carrying a tray of cinnamon rolls. “Mr. Pin and I are on a case.”

“I'll give you a ride,” said Luigi to Maggie and Mr. Pin. “The opera house is on my way to a delivery.”

“Thanks,” said Maggie. “By the way,” she said to Mac, “you're new around here. Where are you from?”

“Italy,” said Mac. He looked a little nervous as he quickly put on his coat, paid the bill, and nodded to Smiling Sally.

Mr. Pin picked up the chocolate syrup as he watched Mac leave.

“Who was that?” asked Maggie.

“Mac,” said Luigi. “He wants to learn to drive a truck.”

“Do you think he's really from Italy?” asked Maggie.

“Yes,” said Mr. Pin, pouring syrup directly on the tip of his wing. “But I don't think his name is really Mac.”

3

“I always sing when I drive. Keeps me awake,” said Luigi to Maggie and Mr. Pin as he drove them to the opera. Luigi sang arias to the music on the radio while Mr. Pin tapped his wing on the dash. Luigi swung his pasta truck behind a long line of limousines parked on North Wacker in front of the opera house. The two detectives climbed out.

“I'll pick you up later,” said Luigi.

Mr. Pin and Maggie made their way through the crowd of operagoers to the ticket counter. There they collected their tickets, left by Berta Largamente, and walked over to the elevator.

“Best seats are at the top,” the elevator man told Maggie and Mr. Pin when they stepped inside. “I'm Harold. I run this elevator. Matter of fact, I run just about everything else here too.”

“I'm Maggie and this is Mr. Pin, penguin detective from the South Pole,” Maggie told Harold.

“Reasonable rates,” said Mr. Pin.

“Glad to meet you,” said Harold as he pulled the door open. The two detectives stepped out. “It's hot,” Harold went on, “but the best sound is at the top.”

Mr. Pin tipped his cap. Then he and Maggie looked for their seats.

It
was
hot on the upper level. Maggie took off her winter coat. Mr. Pin took a tin of opera chocolates out of a black bag and fanned his feathers. Together they read the program.

Soon the houselights faded. The audience hushed. Tiny flashlights flickered. The curtain parted and there, right in the middle of the stage, was Berta Largamente in a silver sequined gown. The orchestra thundered and Berta started to sing.

Maggie took a pair of binoculars out of her backpack.

“The conductor looks familiar,” she whispered. She handed the glasses to Mr. Pin.

“It's Mac,” said Mr. Pin. “The same Mac who was in the diner.”

“What!” said Maggie, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Suddenly, a dense, blue fog erupted out of the stage floor. It spread everywhere. Berta disappeared almost completely, but she kept singing. Then the blue fog rolled over the edge of the stage and into the orchestra pit. The conductor still held his baton and directed the fog-covered musicians. But all of a sudden, the orchestra stopped playing. The conductor had disappeared!

“Mac is in trouble,” said Mr. Pin, springing out of his seat. Maggie grabbed her backpack and coat and rushed after the penguin detective.

Berta kept singing. The audience was thrilled. They thought the fog was a wonderful special effect.

Mr. Pin raced past the ushers and turned the corner toward the elevators. For some reason, there was an
OUT OF ORDER
sign on Harold's elevator door. The other two were stopped at the bottom.

“This way,” urged Mr. Pin, gently pulling Maggie's elbow toward the stairs.

“Right,” said Maggie. They went down six full flights. Then, just as they reached the bottom, the penguin detective stopped short.

“Hmmm,” said Mr. Pin, looking around.

“I thought we were in a hurry,” panted Maggie.

“We are,” said Mr. Pin. “I'm looking for a shortcut from here to the stage.”

Quietly, Mr. Pin slipped into the main hall. He motioned for Maggie to follow him. Then he carefully moved his wing along the wall near a fire exit. “Ah. This is it!” he whispered.