The Puzzler's Mansion (21 page)

“Exactly my point,” said Gerard. He was still focused on Mal and Jake like a laser beam, despite Penrose's repeated requests that Gerard calm down and think things through. The boys, Penrose said, had been asleep, like everybody else.

“They
say
they were asleep,” Gerard said to them. “I think they should empty out their bags for us.” He looked at the boys challengingly.

Jake was too tired to argue. He reached under the sofa that served as his bed and pulled out his duffel bag. “There you are,” he said, offering it to Gerard. “Go right ahead.”

“You can search mine, too,” said Mal. He retrieved his ratty knapsack. “I didn't steal Winston's cuff links. But I did shove Kimberly's cello in there. Sorry. I probably shouldn't have done that.” Kimberly and several others laughed. Gerard did not. He waved an annoyed hand at the two boys but decided not to search their bags. He didn't need to say what he was thinking, which was that even if the boys were crooks, they were probably not stupid enough to hide the loot in their bags.

Larry cleared his throat, trying to bring the attention back over to himself. He had a great throbbing brain full of theories he wanted to share. Perhaps the thief had only
pretended
to run down the stairs. Whoever it was went halfway down the stairs and then snuck back up again.

Penrose shook his head. “It seems more logical that the thief never went downstairs in the first place, and that Candice simply didn't witness things correctly.” Candice herself was not with them. She had gone back to bed to rest her overwrought nerves.

“So that makes it Zook again,” said Gerard. He wanted someone to blame, and he wanted it right now.

“Or maybe nothing at all was stolen,” Larry said, and looked satisfied when everybody stared at him with amazement. “Maybe Norma never put the cuff links away in the first place. She said she was going to, but did anybody see her do it?”

“So you're saying
Norma
is the thief?” Kimberly said, astounded.

“Well, no . . . no,” Larry said, a bit stiffly. Winston knew Larry
did
consider Norma a suspect, but maybe it was smarter not to say so. “I'm just saying she forgot to put the cuff links away, and now we all think they're stolen when they're really in her jacket pocket.”

Gerard's disbelief radiated from his face like a neon sign. “And Betty's cash? Maybe she never had the money she said was stolen?”

Larry shrugged. “That's not impossible.”

Gerard stood up. “And the Elgar program? Did that also not exist? Nothing has been stolen all weekend, is that your theory?”

“Well, I admit you've got me there. I don't have all the answers. . . .”

Gerard sat back down, exhausted. “You don't have any of the answers. If you don't be quiet, the next crime we're gonna discuss is your murder.”

Richard was not a part of this conversation. This latest thing had pushed him too far: He was visibly upset and sat with Derek at the dining room table, quietly discussing things. Richard looked like he fervently wished that Norma were here to take charge. She was still in the guesthouse, along with Betty and the brats. All of them were probably fast asleep, unaware of this latest excitement.

Larry could have talked about the possibilities all day, but his listeners were getting less and less eager. The crime was going to stay unsolved—even Gerard understood this—and the group broke up to
start the day. Winston had never changed out of his sweatpants and T-shirt, so he did this now. Only Kimberly stayed behind in the reading room, watching the rain fall in the barely there morning light.

“I wish I drank coffee,” Mal said after they were dressed, envy in his voice as he watched the adults pour cup after cup.

“This is going to be a long day,” Jake agreed. “Waking up at four
A.M.
is no fun.”

Mal said, “Waking up and having that hamburger-selling ding-dong accuse us of stealing things . . . that's even
less
fun. If I wanted the cuff links, I could just steal them out of Winston's bedroom a month from now.”

“I guess I better think of a good hiding spot,” Winston joked. He paused as Mal and Jake frowned at him. “Right,” he said. “Well, assuming I get them back.” He'd been so tired and confused by all the goings-on that it hadn't really sunk in.
His
possessions had been stolen. He'd been unsure about accepting the cuff links in the first place, and never did figure out how he was supposed to explain them to his parents. Well, good news—now he wouldn't have to. That good news didn't feel particularly good.

Norma came upstairs and seemed surprised to see the house so busy. She began organizing breakfast, which meant hectoring people to start cracking eggs and heating up frying pans. In the fridge were the makings for omelets. Richard took Norma by the arm to fill her in on everything that had happened, but not before Norma put an unhappy Gerard in charge of omelet making. Larry offered to help, and Gerard accepted. “As long as you keep the mystery talk to a minimum,” he said. “A minimum meaning
none.”
Larry smiled and zipped his lip.

Winston made his way back to the reading room, and his friends followed. Norma had just shouted “WHAT?” in response to what
Richard had told her, and the boys wanted to stay as far out of her way as possible.

Richard was depressed for a while, no doubt about it, but shortly after breakfast he regained his enthusiasm. “The next puzzle begins in twenty minutes,” he announced cheerily to the group as they cleared the table of plates and silverware.

“You're really going to continue with this?” Candice Deburgh said. By the shocked look on her face, she seemed to feel her experience in the hallway should mean the end of all fun, forever.

“Why on earth not?” Richard said. “Twenty minutes in the reading room, please. Our setup for this one is minimal, so you can go into that room beforehand if you need to.” He and Norma went downstairs, leaving the group to clean up breakfast.

They chatted among themselves, and after a little while, the doorbell rang. Jake answered it and found Betty McGinley and the brats.
The rain had stopped, and the sun was trying to shoulder its way through the bullying clouds.

“I missed breakfast, didn't I?” Betty said. “The kids slept late, and I . . . I didn't want to wake them.”

“We understand perfectly,” said Larry, straight-faced. If this was a joke, Betty didn't get it. Mal snickered a little, though. “And nonsense about missing breakfast,” Larry continued. “We still have plenty of food. I'll be happy to whip you up an omelet, and maybe some scrambled eggs for the kids?”

“Oh, you're a dream,” said Betty as she squatted to get her kids' shoes off. The rain may have petered off, but the grounds were a mess, and mud on the expensive tile floors would surely put Norma in the hospital with a seizure.

While they waited for Richard and Norma to return and the brats messily ate their scrambled eggs, Candice brought Betty up to speed, explaining in hushed tones all the events she'd missed by staying in the guesthouse.

“
Another
thing missing?” Betty said. “The nerve this person has, whoever it is.” Winston saw her eyes wander over to Zook, but he didn't notice—he was immersed in a graphic novel with a violent-looking cover.

“Okay!” said Richard, stepping into the room. He carried a manila folder and looked much more like his cheerful and mischievous self. “As always, you can feel free to work separately or together, but there is just the one prize to award.” He opened the folder and riffled through some papers in there. “Take one, please. There's a copy for each of you.”

The papers were passed around, and one finally landed in Winston's hands. It was fancy paper, cream-colored, with a mottled pattern in the background. Winston smiled as he took in the mystifying words:

“A treasure map!” said Kimberly.

“Without the map,” added Larry.

“Well, this is very cute,” said Gerard, “but how are we supposed to know where to start?”

Richard gave an elaborate I-know-but-I'm-not-telling shrug.

Chase piped up from the sofa, “Is everybody's copy the same?”

“Yes, indeed,” Richard assured him.

The group stared at the papers. Nobody quite knew what to do. Penrose raised a hand and said, “And the answer is a word, correct?”

“It is.”

“On other puzzles this weekend, you told us how many letters were in the answer.”

“I did, didn't I?” Richard said. “That was very nice of me.” He then fell into a pointed silence. Penrose uttered a little laugh. They would receive no such hints this time.

“Do we have to stay here?” asked Kimberly. “In this room?”

Richard shook his head. “Not at all. You have the run of the house. I'll be here, however, when one of you wishes to tell me the answer.” He settled into his favorite chair, smiling at everyone's puzzlement.

No one moved for a while—everyone just stared at the words and looked around vaguely. Then people began to decide that nothing was going to get solved in here. “Does anyone happen to have a compass?” Derek asked. “Today's not a day for orienting yourself to the position of the sun.”

“My phone has one,” said Chase, bringing out a high-tech telephone, which looked like it did everything but make pancakes.

Winston thought about tagging along with them but decided against it. Knowing which way was west wouldn't be much help until they knew where they were supposed to start walking. And how were they supposed to know that? That seemed like the real puzzle.

Derek, Chase, and Zook moved to the front hallway, and after some hushed discussion, decided to go outside to look around. Had they figured out something?

“What do you think?” Jake asked. “I actually have a compass in my duffel bag. Should I dig it out?”

“I guess it couldn't hurt,” Winston said.

“Here's my question,” said Mal. “If this is some kind of pirate treasure puzzle, are we going to have to dig something up? I don't remember seeing any shovels.”

“There must be something else going on.” Winston watched as Larry and Kimberly, sparked by some hot idea, ran downstairs together. Aggravating. Winston felt nailed to the floor. He had no idea what to do.

Penrose came over, smiling. “You don't seem to be running off anywhere,” he said to the boys.

Winston shook his head. “I don't know what this is. Do you?”

“Not yet. I'm willing to bet it's not a treasure map, though.”

“Yeah, I guess I think that, too.”

Trying their best to ignore the other groups—they could hear Larry shouting something with enthusiasm downstairs—they settled back down and tried to think it through.

Mal said, “So maybe it's a code or something. Each line represents a letter.”

Across the room, Gerard Deburgh was again working with his family. He got snagged by what Mal said, and looked up. “A code? How would that work?”

“I haven't the foggiest idea,” Mal said.

Gerard suddenly remembered that he was mad at Mal, who might or might not have knocked down his wife in a dark hallway. He gave a little
hmmph
and bent over his paper. Amanda, Winston was surprised to see, passed them a look of sympathy. So maybe she didn't believe Mal or Jake had done anything.

Jake thought about Mal's idea. “A code. So each line would be its own letter, somehow?”

Mal shrugged. “Like I said: no clue.”

It wasn't the worst idea in the world, and Winston wasn't coming up with anything better. He said, “What if ‘four paces west' means ‘take the fourth letter of WEST'? That's T. . . .”

“Huh,” said Jake. “But ‘four paces north' also gives you T. . . .”

Yeah, this wasn't going to work. When they counted out the first six letters, they got TTAETT. Not very promising.

Penrose sighed. “I suppose we have to consider the notion that this is a trail and we have to figure out where it begins.”

“Should we go outside?” Mal asked.

It would be a change of scenery, anyway, and they could see out the window that the sun was making a serious comeback. So they
got their jackets and went outside into the October morning. They stood at the top of the stone entranceway and looked around.

“Great,” said Jake. “Now what?”

“Well, we can walk while we think,” Penrose said. “It's turning into a nice morning. Nicer than I thought it was going to be.”

They strolled around the house, paying no mind to the wet grass licking at their shoes and ankles. Up ahead, Derek and Chase, with Zook trailing behind, had decided this puzzle must have something to do with the garden. They were standing at its entrance, staring at the list of clues, not sure what to do next. On either side of them were those tall purple orchids, now standing proud and tall again—someone had gotten them back into shape.

“Think they're on to something?” Mal asked.

“Beats me,” said Winston.

“What about the front door?” Jake said. “Wouldn't that be a good place to start?”

They stopped and looked back in the direction of the front door, now around the corner and past several tall hedges.

“I suppose that could be right,” said Penrose. “But here's my problem. Look at this.” He pointed to a spot in the middle of the list. “The third instruction says to go two paces east, but then the next step is to move two paces west again.”