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  “I’ve had eight compliments this morning,” Edna said. “Our band was pretty good last night.”

  Jeanne chuckled. “It should have been, with three solid hours of rehearsal before the show. It’s lucky we had any strings left on our ukuleles.”

  Three hours? Sean thought. Forget Edna then. He decided that there was no chance she had been the spy who turned off the pool lights.

  Jeanne continued talking. “You’re lucky you didn’t stick around for the whole rehearsal, Edna. You get so nervous when we make mistakes, and I pulled some bad ones.”

  Sean perked up. So Edna could have been at the pool! How could he find out what time she’d left the rehearsal?

  I’ll just ask her, Sean told himself.

  A group of people arrived and waited to be seated. Edna led them into the coffee shop, and as Jeanne walked by, Sean jumped to his feet.

  “Could I ask you a question?” he said to Jeanne.

  Jeanne looked surprised. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  “Something about your ukulele band rehearsal yesterday,” Sean answered. “I heard you say that during rehearsal, Edna Marker left for a while. Do you remember what time that was?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It was probably around seven-thirty. Or maybe it was eight.”

  “Was she gone long?”

  “Not too long,” Jeanne answered. “Edna said she had a headache because she was hungry, so she left to get an aspirin and something to eat.” Suddenly Jeanne looked sharply at Sean. “Why are you asking about the rehearsal and what Edna was doing?”

  “So I can tell my brother,” Sean said. Without trying to explain, he said, “Thanks for your help,” and ran to find Brian.

  10

  SEAN FOUND BRIAN AND Jennifer seated together in one of the wide rockers in the corner of the porch. He told them what he’d learned from Jeanne and said, “So Edna could have been at the pool!”

  Brian jotted the information in his notebook. “Jennifer,” he said, “just to cover all the bases, could you check with a couple of the others in Edna’s ukulele band? Maybe we’ll get a better idea of when Edna left the rehearsal and how long she was gone.”

  “Right,” Jennifer said.

  Brian turned to Sean. “Let me tell you about Martha. I didn’t get anywhere with my questions for her. Jennifer asked her for another rubber band, and while Martha was fishing one out of her desk, I said I’d heard she had a nephew working at the Empire Hotel in town. Her mouth got tight, and she acted kind of nervous and picked up some papers and tried to look busy. So then I said I’d heard that Robert and Palmer were friends. Her face got red, and she told us she didn’t have time to talk about her nephew and asked if we wanted anything else.”

  “She probably doesn’t want to talk about her nephew because she’s embarrassed that he was in prison,” Sean said.

  “But Robert couldn’t be involved in the thefts because he doesn’t work here anymore,” Jennifer pointed out.

  “Until we have more facts we can’t rule anyone out,” Brian said. “That includes Robert Hopkins.”

  “I’ve got some more information for you to add to your notebook,” Jennifer told Brian. “I was on the dock and watched the meat company unload a delivery early this morning. Mr. Otis was there, too, so I followed him inside and checked the refrigerated meat lockers. There are no locks on the refrigerators, but the doors of the meat locker were locked after the delivery had been made and signed for. That’s when Mr. Otis noticed me and told me I didn’t belong in the kitchen.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the kitchen,” Brian said. “The thief has to be someone who’s used to being seen in the kitchen. I think both the sheriff and Mr. Otis are overlooking people who are going about their routine business in the kitchen, because they’re trying so hard to find someone who doesn’t belong there.”

  “Okay,” Jennifer said. “So who are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know yet. We may have to answer some other questions first.”

  “Like how the stolen meat gets out of the hotel,” Sean said.

  “That’s the big question,” Brian told him, “but right now let’s think about something else. We’re pretty sure that the thieves sell the meat they steal to restaurant owners who recognize the quality of the meat, want a bargain, and won’t ask questions about where it comes from.”

  Sean broke in. “They couldn’t get as much as the meat is worth.”

  “No, but they’d still get paid pretty well,” Jennifer said. “Like I said, those large roasts and hams are really expensive. Some of them cost more than a hundred dollars apiece.”

  “A hundred dollars?” Sean whistled.

  He jumped as he heard his mother say, “There you are!” Mrs. Quinn came toward them, smiling. “My speech went well, and I’m taking a break from all the work I’ve been doing. How’d you like to go into town with me for a little sightseeing and shopping? You, too, Jennifer.”

  “Shopping, Mom? Shopping’s no fun,” Sean said.

  “It includes a nice lunch,” Mrs. Quinn told him. “I’ve heard that the Empire Hotel has a lovely big buffet with chicken, roast beef, and ham.”

  “The Empire Hotel?” Brian said. “That’s where Robert Hopkins works.”

  “Who’s Robert Hopkins?” Mrs. Quinn asked.

  “Martha Wood’s nephew … a waiter …” Brian hesitated. “Mom, it takes too long to explain,” he said. “If it’s okay with you, could we skip the sightseeing in town? We’ve got a lot of stuff to do here.”

  Mrs. Quinn smiled. “No problem,” she said. “One of my conference friends would like to go with me, I’m sure. That’s what I like about these conventions. It’s a good place to renew old acquaintances and make a lot of new friends. It’s like a network of friends.”

  “That’s it! That’s the answer!” Brian said.

  “What answer?” Mrs. Quinn asked.

  “It’s kind of a puzzle we’re trying to work out,” Brian told her, “and the pieces are beginning to fall into place. I’ll tell you all about it later, Mom. Have fun in town. We’ll see you at dinnertime.”

  As soon as Mrs. Quinn left, Brian said to Sean and Jennifer, “Come on! Quick! Let’s go back to the kitchen. I’ve got just a few more questions to ask.”

  11

  AS THEY REACHED THE kitchen and Jennifer opened the door, Ann stopped her work, smiled, and came to meet them, shaking her head. “Here you are again, and you know you’re not supposed to be in the kitchen. What do you kids want this time?”

  “You said you save bones for Palmer’s dog, Pete,” Brian asked. “How does Palmer get the bones?”

  “Easy,” she said. “We keep them in a special section of the meat locker, and Palmer comes to get them whenever it’s handy. That way he doesn’t bother anybody. As a matter of fact, he was here just a little while ago.”

  “Does he wrap the bones in aluminum foil? Or plastic wrap?”

  “I don’t know what he wraps them in,” Ann said. “He always carries them out in that big gym bag of his.” She stared at Brian. “What difference does it make?”

  “Our neighbor has a dog,” Sean piped up.

  “Sorry,” she said. “We don’t give out bones to anyone but Palmer,” Ann said.

  A chef hurried from the back room, his tall white hat quivering. “The steaks!” he shouted. “The entire package … delivered this morning! Gone! And a large ham! Now, you tell me—where could they be?”

  “What time were they delivered?” Brian asked.

  “Out!” Ann said. “You kids don’t belong in here!”

  She hustled them out quickly and shut the door. In the hallway Brian smiled. “I have a good idea now of who’s been stealing the meat!” he announced. “It’s like a network of contacts. And it starts with Palmer.”

  “But security examines Palmer’s gym bag when he leaves the hotel,” Jennifer said. “They open and look through everything. Just ask Mr. Otis. He’ll tell you.” She made a f
ace. “Besides, meat would be ruined if it wasn’t refrigerated all day long.”

  “Right,” Brian nodded. “I’m not sure yet how Palmer is transporting the stolen stuff from the hotel. Especially since everyone is searched.”

  “Not everyone,” Sean reminded him. “The guests aren’t searched.”

  “Guests,” Brian said. “I wonder …”

  “But the thief can’t be a guest,” Jennifer said. “Our hotel guests are here for short visits, and the thefts have been going on for more than three months.” Jennifer opened the door to the main hallway, which was filled with a tour group lining up at the restaurant.

  “We’ve got to talk about this where we can’t be overheard,” Brian said. “Let’s try the porch.”

  But the porch was crowded with guests enjoying the beautiful day, and the garden bench was already occupied.

  “If we go to our apartment, Mom’s likely to walk in on us,” Jennifer said. “But off the lobby there’s a small conference room that’s probably empty. Come on.”

  They elbowed their way through the group of people who were signed up to take the airport shuttle, then entered the room and turned on the lights.

  Brian said, “Okay. This is how I’ve figured it out. What Mom said about her network of friends made me think about Palmer and his friends. Palmer takes the meat from the refrigerated lockers and places it in his gym bag, and no one suspects him because everyone thinks he’s carrying dog bones. Then Palmer passes the bag to his friend, Jed, who takes the gym bag to the airport.”

  “But Brian,” said Sean. “A gym bag is pretty conspicuous. After a while, wouldn’t someone become suspicious of it?”

  Brian frowned again and scratched his head. “You’re right.”

  “Besides,” said Jennifer, “all employee bags are searched.”

  “And everyone knows that that’s Palmer’s gym bag,” said Sean. “Also, wouldn’t Mr. Otis wonder why Jed was driving Palmer’s gym bag to the airport?”

  “Right,” said Brian, and nodded. “What we’re looking for is a big bag that is so inconspicuous that no one in the hotel would notice it going back and forth. Even after a lot of trips.”

  Trips, thought Sean. Suddenly he remembered the first time he had tripped over the old brown suitcase in the lobby. He hadn’t even noticed it there with all the other suitcases. That had to be it!

  “Suitcases!” shouted Sean.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Brian.

  “The meat isn’t being carried out in a gym bag,” explained Sean. “It’s being taken out in a suitcase. No one would pay any attention to a suitcase. They would think it belonged to a guest!”

  “That’s it!” agreed Brian. “I bet there are hundreds of suitcases that go back and forth each day. And most of them all look alike. It would be hard to notice one from another.”

  “Yeah,” said Sean, “except if it was brightly colored or had a mark or something on it. Most of the suitcases I saw in the lobby were all just kind of boring looking.”

  “Okay,” said Brian. “Jennifer, how many trips does the hotel van make to the airport each day?”

  “Four,” Jennifer answered.

  “So on any one of them Jed could add the suitcase. Then, after he drops off his passengers, he could drive to the Empire Hotel and pass the meat to Robert, who sells it to whoever buys the meat for the hotel.”

  Jennifer whistled. “It sounds right,” she said, “but how are we going to prove it?”

  Sean was thinking about what he had said about marks on the suitcase. The word seemed important, but he couldn’t figure out why. Then he remembered. The scratch on the suitcase! Both times that he tripped on the suitcase, he noticed a scratch on the top corner—the same scratch!

  “Brian!” he shouted. “Remember when I tripped over that suitcase before and worried about scratching it? A little while ago the same old brown suitcase was there in the lobby along with the others, ready to be placed in the hotel van! I saw it! I’ll bet those missing steaks are in it!”

  “I’ll get Dad,” Jennifer said. She jumped up and ran out the door, returning in a few minutes with her father.

  After Brian and Sean introduced themselves, it took only a few minutes to tell Mr. Hicks everything they’d found out and what they suspected.

  “Your ideas make good sense,” Mr. Hicks told them.

  “Do you think Martha knows about it?” Jennifer asked.

  “That’s for the sheriff to discover,” Mr. Hicks said, “but I doubt that Martha’s at fault. I’m guessing that Martha’s concerned that her nephew might be involved in our thefts but probably has no idea how.”

  He smiled as he said, “I can vouch for Edna, too. She came to the offices during rehearsal, asking for an aspirin. Martha gave Edna an aspirin, led her to a sofa in the employee lounge, and tucked her in for a nap.”

  “I think we’d better call the sheriff,” Brian said.

  “And the front desk,” Mr. Hicks said. As soon as he’d hung up the phone, he said, “Jed has already left with the van. The sheriff is going to let him carry out the delivery and will pick up both Jed and Robert at the Empire Hotel when Robert accepts the stolen meat.”

  “What about Palmer?” Jennifer asked.

  “I was told to have Mr. Otis take Palmer into custody.”

  “Nobody saw Palmer give the meat to Jed. So how will the sheriff prove that Palmer is in on the thefts?” Jennifer asked.

  “Fingerprints!” Sean said. “I bet Palmer will have his fingerprints on the suitcase.”

  “And a lab might be able to pick up traces of meat in his gym bag,” Brian added. “Also, Palmer’s the only one of the three who has access to the kitchen.” His smile was grim. “I doubt that Jed or Robert will let Palmer go free and take the rap by themselves.”

  “Take the rap!” Jennifer repeated, her eyes wide with admiration. “Oh, Brian, you sound just like the private eyes on television.”

  Brian tried to look modest. “We private investigators have a language all our own,” he told her.

  “Oh, yuck!” Sean muttered. “Give me thieves, robbers, or ghosts. But please! No more girls!”

  Mr. Hicks took a pager from his belt and punched in some numbers. “I’m going to meet Mr. Otis,” he said. “Suppose the three of you order whatever you want from the Hamburger Hut while you wait. If all goes as we think it will, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

  As soon as Mr. Hicks left the room, Brian said, “I want to be there when Palmer’s busted, not hear about it later. Don’t you?”

  “You bet,” Sean said.

  “Let’s go!” Jennifer cried.

  Mr. Hicks and Mr. Otis weren’t hard to shadow. They strode toward the dining room, so intent on the business at hand that they didn’t notice they were being tailed.

  Brian, Sean, and Jennifer stopped at the entrance to the nearly empty dining room and watched as Mr. Hicks spoke to Palmer.

  Palmer looked shocked and scared. Then he bolted, dashing toward the main entrance to the dining room.

  “Stop him!” Mr. Otis yelled.

  Palmer was fast, but Sean grabbed a menu and swatted him in the face as he ran through the doorway.

  “Ooof!” Palmer gasped, and staggered back a step.

  “Ugh!” he grunted as Brian hit him below the knees, knocking him flat.

  “Ouch!” he shouted as Jennifer sat on him.

  “Good work, kids,” Mr. Hicks said as Mr. Otis hauled Palmer to his feet, handcuffed him, and led him away.

  Brian grinned. “Wow! This is exciting! Wait till we tell Dad that we solved another case!” Solving a case was fine, but Sean was much more excited about what Mr. Hicks said next: “Why don’t all of you join me for some ice cream while we talk about a reward?”

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1995 by Joan Lowery Nixon

  cover design by Omar Olivera, Andrea C. Uva

  978-1-4532-8276-2

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