The Further Adventures of Jack Lime (7 page)

Thursday, October 10, 9:28 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell

Being in the detective game means I solve tricky problems for a living, so it didn't take me long to figure out a way to bust out of this Popsicle stand. I just had to make sure the timing was right. I waited until first period was about to end and then rolled into action.

“Mr. Van Kramp,” I said, poking my head out the door, “I need to pee, and fast, or there's going to be a big mess in here.”

Van Kramp stopped typing and looked at me like I'd just done my business on his shoes. “Be quick about it,” he grumbled, and then went back to work.

I ran out of the office and made my way to the main foyer. The bell rang just as I arrived, and kids started streaming out of their classes. I leaned against the far wall and waited for KC Stone to wander by. I didn't have to wait long.

“Let's walk and talk,” I said, sliding up beside her.

“What did Snit want?” KC asked.

“Mike the Bookie is dragging my name through the mud. He told Snit I swiped his diary and then forced him to pay a wad of dough to get it back. What a bunch of baloney.”

“Did you do those things?” KC asked.

“Of course I did!” I yelled. “But it wasn't a diary, it was a betting ledger, and I used the cash to help save Lance's Munroe's golden derriere.”

“So what now?” she asked.

“Now I'm under lock and key in the main office for a week, which means it's going to be hard to solve this case without a little help.”

“What can I do?”

“I need info.”

“Fire away.”

“Was the door to the art room locked last night?”

“Absolutely,” KC said. “I asked the art teacher myself. She said she put the paintings in the supply room at four-thirty yesterday afternoon and locked the door behind her. This morning when she opened the supply room, Madeleine's painting was gone.”

“Were any other paintings stolen?”

“Nope.”

“Any suspects? Anyone who would want Madeleine out of the way?”

“I asked Madeleine the same thing. She thinks a guy named Sebastian Cain would probably win if she's out of the contest.”

“Why would he want to win so bad? What's on the line?”

“The winner is picked by a bunch of profs from the art college in the city. Whoever wins first prize is guaranteed a spot at the college next fall. Plus, Luxemcorp features the winner in their monthly business magazine and puts the artwork on display at the art gallery on Main Street. It's big-time exposure, Jack.”

“Anything else you need to tell me, KC?”

“I don't think so,” she said. “By the way, where's my phone? I need it back.”

“You'll have to ask Snit,” I said. “He has a problem with students using phones during suspension.”

“Why don't you do it for me,” she said with a crooked smile. “He's right behind you.”

Thursday, October 10, 9:39 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell

Bucky was still asleep on the desk when Snit and I walked back in.

“Rise and shine, Mr. King,” Snit barked, slamming a stack of worksheets on the desk.

“It wasn't me,” King mumbled, sitting up.

“I'm sure it wasn't,” Snit said with a cold smile. “But perhaps you should start catching up on your work instead of your sleep. And thanks to Mr. Lime, you won't be allowed out of here without an escort. If you need to use the bathroom, gentlemen, you'll have to ask Mr. Van Kramp if he can spare some time.”

Snit stalked out, and Bucky handed over the pile of worksheets that Snit had left on the desk.

“You heard the man,” he said, tossing them on the floor, “get to work, Limey.”

“I'll get to it,” I said, “but first I want to know if you've ever heard of a cat named Sebastian Cain.”

“Don't know him.”

“What about an art heist, Bucky? Have any of your lackeys been busy stealing paintings?”

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “Bucky King is real big into paintings. Me and the boys are having a sale down by the river tonight. Black tie. Why don't you drop by and take a look around.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I'll pass.”

“Then stop your yakking. I had a late night.”

My gut was telling me I was barking up the wrong tree. Unless Bucky could sell what he stole for a tidy stack of cash, he wasn't interested. Even an award-winning painting wasn't going to fetch much dough on the Iona High black market. So I sat down in the corner and tried to come up with a new way to get out of this hole.

Thursday, October 10, 11:50 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell

All the snoring Bucky was doing got to me after a while, so I decided to catch a little shut-eye myself, just to freshen up, you understand. Unfortunately, I didn't wake up until the lunch bell rang, and I still wasn't any closer to solving this case. I couldn't do that without gathering some more info, and I couldn't do that until I got out of this joint. Lucky for me, Bucky woke up, too.

“Van Kramp!” he yelled, stepping out of our cell. “I need to use the john.”

“Fine,” Van Kramp said, “come with me. I need to get something to eat anyway.”

Sometimes you have to be grateful for what you've got, even if the only thing you've got is Bucky King and his full bladder. I waited a few seconds and then peeked out. The main office was empty and Snit's door was shut, which usually meant he was meeting with someone important. So, like a good little jailbird, I grabbed my opportunity, slipped outside and headed for the cafeteria.

Thursday, October 10, 11:52 a.m.
Iona High, The Cafeteria

I snuck in the back way and spotted KC sitting at a table with Madeleine and a couple of other kids. Van Kramp was busy ordering something to eat at the front counter, so I slunk up to KC's table and sat down.

“Lime,” KC said, “I didn't think Mr. Snit would let you out for lunch.”

“He didn't,” I said, hunching down a little as Van Kramp turned and walked out of the cafeteria. “I don't have much time, so we need to talk fast. Has Cain done anything suspicious?”

“I don't know,” KC said. “I haven't monitored Cain's every move, what with school going on and all. But we found this stuck to Madeleine's locker,” she added, handing over a red envelope.

I gave it a quick once-over. It was your standard envelope, except for the fact that it was red. There was a piece of tape still stuck to the top. I assumed it'd been used to stick the envelope onto Madeleine's locker. There was another piece of tape on the back that'd been used to seal it shut.

“Are you planning on dusting it for fingerprints?” KC said. “Or are you going to read what's inside?”

“That's what separates the amateurs from the pros, Stone,” I said, holding the envelope up so that KC could see the back. “Whoever stuck this to Madeleine's locker doesn't like to lick envelopes.”

“Wow,” KC said, “I stand corrected, Lime. The envelope is important! Now we just need to question every student at school and find out who doesn't like licking envelopes.”

“It's a clue,” I growled.

“A lame clue,” KC said. “Why don't you just read the letter?”

I opened the envelope and pulled out a plain white sheet that had been folded twice. It read,
“Put $50 in this envelop. put it under the last seat on the left, on the last car of the 5 pm train into the city. If you do this I'll call the pay phone near the restrooms at the train station at 5:15 and tell you wear you can find the painting. If you don't, I'll destroy the painting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“What do you think, Lime?” KC asked.

“I think that whoever wrote this note really likes using exclamation points.”

“Hardee-har-har,” KC said. “What else?”

“It was printed in the library,” I said.

“How do you know that?” KC asked.

“Can you see the faint ink smudge running down the left side?” I said, showing the note to everyone at the table. “The printer in the library leaves that smudge behind every time.”

Judging by their reactions, the others were impressed by that little bit of detective work.

“Plus, I'd say the perp was in a hurry.”

“Because of the spelling mistakes?” KC asked.

“Exactly,” I said. “KC, you're getting better at this all the time. Pretty soon you'll be able to solve crimes all by yourself.”

“Keep talking like that, Jack, and the next big mystery at this school will be you disappearing forever,” she said, glaring at me.

That's when Van Kramp walked back into the cafeteria and started snooping around.

“I don't have time for your gum slapping, Stone,” I said, slipping off my chair and squatting beside the table. “Give me a phone, quick, so I can stay in touch.”

“Mr. Snit still has mine,” KC said.

“You can have mine,” Madeleine said, reaching into her pocket.

“No, take mine,” another kid said. He was a big guy with brown hair that hung down to his shoulders. “This way you can contact Madeleine yourself. Her number's on my phone. Just make sure you find that painting, okay?”

“Thanks,” I said, and slipped his phone into my pocket. I jumped up and was about to make a clean getaway when my grandma and Mr. Snit came through the doorway.

“Jack! Eric! Lime! What! Do you think! You're doing!”

“Grandma,” I said, “why are you here?”

“I think you know why I'm here,” she said, and then she turned and marched out of the cafeteria.

“Let's go back to my office, Mr. Lime,” Mr. Snit said. “I think we need to go over a few things.”

Thursday, October 10, 12:07 p.m.
Iona High, Snit's Office

Apparently my grandmother was the important person that Snit had been talking to when I slipped out of my cell. Apparently he called her in to discuss the false accusations of physical intimidation and theft that had been flung in my direction by Mike the Bookie. Apparently she wasn't too happy about the whole situation.