Emil and the Detectives (10 page)

He hung up, looked at Emil as if he were seeing him for the first time, and said, “Emil, come with me. You're going to get your picture taken!”

“Uh, okay…” said Emil, a little surprised. But he went along with it. He took the elevator with Mr. Kästner three floors up to a brightly lit room with a lot of windows. He combed his hair, and then his picture was taken.

After that, Mr. Kästner took him along to the composing room—was that ever a racket! like a thousand typewriters going at once!—and gave a man the pages that the beautiful woman had typed. He said he would be coming right back, that this was something very important, and that he just needed to send the boy off to his grandmother's first.

Then they took the elevator to the ground floor and walked out to the street. Mr. Kästner hailed a cab, put Emil in it, gave money to the driver—although the boy didn't want him to—and said, “Please take my little friend here to 15 Schumann Street.”

They shook hands, and Mr. Kästner said, “Give my greetings to your mother when you get home. She must be a wonderful woman.”

“She sure is,” said Emil.

“And one more thing,” shouted Mr. Kästner as the cab was pulling away. “Read the newspaper tomorrow! You're in for a big surprise!”

Emil turned around and waved. And Mr. Kästner waved back.

Then the cab zoomed around the corner.

T
HE TAXI WAS ALREADY ON
U
NDER THE
L
INDENS
B
OULEVARD
when Emil knocked three times against the window. The car stopped, and the boy asked, “We're probably getting close, right?”

“Not far at all,” said the man.

“Well, I'm really sorry to bother you,” said Emil, “But I have to go back to Emperor Avenue first. To Café Josty. I left a bouquet of flowers there for my grandmother. And my suitcase. Do you mind?”

“Why should I mind? You got money in case what I have here doesn't cover it?”

“I do. And I really need to get those flowers.”

“Fine with me,” said the man and took a left turn, then drove through Brandenburg Gate and down along the green and shady Tiergarten Park to Nollendorf Square. Emil thought it looked much nicer and a lot less dangerous now that things were back to normal. But he still checked his suit coat pocket to make sure the money was there. Then they drove down to the other end of Motz Street, turned right, and stopped in front of Café Josty.

Emil got out, went up to the counter and asked the lady if she would please give him his suitcase and flowers. She did, and he thanked her, then got back into the taxi and said, “Well, Mr. Cab Driver, let's go to Grandma's!”

They turned around and drove all the way back, across the Spree River and through a lot of really old streets with gray buildings. The boy would have liked to get a better look at the neighborhood. But it was like someone had put a spell on him. The suitcase kept falling over. And whenever it did stay put for a few moments, the wind would come blowing through and make the white paper around the flowers flutter and tear. Emil had to watch out that the bouquet did not simply go flying out the window.

The driver put on the brakes. The taxi stopped. They were at 15 Schumann Street.

“Here we are then!” said Emil and got out. “Do I owe you any money?”

“No. But I owe you thirty cents.”

“Keep it!” said Emil, “and buy yourself a couple of cigars!”

“Chewing tobacco, son, chewing tobacco,” the driver said and drove off.

Then Emil walked up to the fourth floor and rang the Heimbolds' doorbell. He heard a loud scream from behind the door. Then it opened, and there was his grandmother. She grabbed Emil by the sleeve, and simultaneously kissed him on the left cheek and cuffed him on the right. Then she pulled him by the hair into the apartment, crying, “Oh, you rascal, you little rascal!”

“We've been hearing great things about you,” said Aunt Martha, smiling, and shook his hand. Pony the Hat was wearing one of her mother's aprons. She held out her elbow to him and squeaked, “Careful! My hands are dripping. I'm washing dishes. A woman's work is never done, is it?”

They all moved to the living room. Emil had to sit on the sofa. Grandma and Aunt Martha both looked at him as if he were an original Rembrandt.

“You got the money?” asked Pony the Hat.

“Of course I do!” said Emil and pulled three bills out of his pocket. He gave the one hundred and twenty marks to his grandmother and said, “Here, Grandma, here's the money. And Mom sends her love. And she says not to be mad that she couldn't send anything the last few months, but business wasn't so great. So that's why she's sending more than usual now.”

“Well, thank you very much, my dear,” the old woman said. She gave the twenty-mark bill back to him and said, “There, that's for you! For being such a clever detective!”

“I'm sorry, but I can't take it. Anyway I already have twenty marks that Mom gave me.”

“Emil, listen to your grandmother. Keep the money and put it in your pocket.”

“No, I won't do it.”

“For God's sake!” cried Pony the Hat. “You sure wouldn't need to ask me twice.”

“I really don't want to.”

“Either you take the money, or you'll make me so mad I'll get rheumatism,” said Grandma.

“Emil, put the money away,” said Aunt Martha and tucked the twenty marks into his pocket.

“Well, if you all insist,” moaned Emil. “Anyway, thanks, Grandma.”

“I should thank you, I should thank you,” she replied and patted him on his head.

Then Emil gave her the bouquet of flowers. Pony went to get a vase. But when they unwrapped the paper, they didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

“Look, dried salad!” said Pony.

“No wonder. They haven't had any water since yesterday afternoon,” Emil explained sadly. “But when Mom and I bought them yesterday at Stamnitzen's, they were completely fresh.”

“I believe it, I believe it,” said Grandma and stuck the withered flowers in the water.

“Maybe they'll come back,” said Aunt Martha. “Well, it's time to have lunch. Your uncle won't be home until dinner. Pony, would you set the table?”

“Sure thing,” said the little girl. “Hey Emil, what are we having for lunch?”

“How should I know?”

“What's your favorite dish?”

“Macaroni and ham.”

“See? You do know what we're having for lunch!”

It's true that Emil had just had macaroni and ham the day before. But first of all, it's not hard to eat your favorite dish every day. And second, Emil had the feeling that a whole week had gone by since he had left his mother in New Town. He attacked the macaroni as if he had a plate of Mr. Groundsnow-Mueller-Kiessling in front of him.

When they finished eating, Emil and the Hat went outside for a bit because the boy wanted to try Pony's little nickel-plated bicycle. Grandma took a nap on the couch. And Aunt Martha baked an apple pie in the oven. Her apple pie was legendary in the whole family.

Emil pedaled down Schumann Street. And Pony the Hat ran after him, holding onto the seat. She said she had to, otherwise her cousin would go flying off. Then he had to get off the bike, and she rode circles and crazy eights around him.

Then a policeman carrying a briefcase came up to them and asked, “Hey kids, does the Heimbold family live here in number 15?”

“Yep,” said Pony, “that's us. Be right with you, Captain.” She went to put her bicycle away in the cellar.

“Why, did something bad happen?” asked Emil. He couldn't help thinking about Officer Jeschke.

“Oh no, not at all. Are you the schoolboy Emil Tabletoe?”

“I am.”

“Well, you should be congratulated!”

“Hey, who won the lottery?” asked Pony, who was just returning.

But the officer said nothing; he simply walked up the steps. Aunt Martha led him into the living room. Grandma woke up, sat up, and seemed very curious. Emil and Pony stood by the table with bated breath.

“Here's the story,” said the officer, opening his briefcase. “The thief apprehended this morning by the schoolboy Emil Tabletoe is identical to a bank robber from Hanover for whom an arrest warrant was issued four weeks ago. This robber has stolen a great deal of money. We indicted him, and he confessed to the crime. Most of the money was subsequently found hidden in the lining of his jacket. All in thousand-mark bills.”

“Get outta here!” said Pony the Hat.

“Two weeks ago,” the policeman continued, “the bank offered a reward to anyone who caught the man. And since you,” he turned to Emil, “did the job, you'll get that reward. The police chief is very happy that your hard work will be compensated. He sends his regards, by the way.”

Emil made a bow.

The officer then took a wad of money out of his briefcase and counted it onto the table. When he finished, Aunt Martha, who was paying close attention, whispered, “A thousand marks!”

“Whoa!” exclaimed Pony. “That's insane!”

Grandma signed a receipt. Then the officer left, but not before Aunt Martha could give him a big glass of cherry brandy from Uncle Robert's cabinet.

Emil took a seat next to his grandmother. He was speechless. The old woman put her arm around him and shook her head. “I can hardly believe it,” she said, “I can hardly believe it.”

Pony the Hat got up on a chair, raised her arms like a music director in front of a chorus, and sang, “Now let's invite, now let's invite the other boys over for a party!”

“Yeah,” said Emil, “that would be good. But most of all…actually, couldn't… what do you think… couldn't Mom come to Berlin, too?”

T
HE NEXT MORNING IN
N
EW
T
OWN
, M
RS
. W
ORTH
,
THE
baker's wife, rang the doorbell of Mrs. Tabletoe, the hairdresser. “Hello, Mrs. Tabletoe,” she said. “How are things?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Worth, I'm terribly worried! My son still hasn't written a word. Every time the bell rings, I think it's the postman. Would you like me to do your hair?”

“No thanks. I just wanted to stop by and, well, I have a message for you.”

“Yes?”

“Emil says to say hello, and…”

“Good heavens! What happened to him? Where is he? What do you know?” shouted Mrs. Tabletoe. She was terribly upset and anxiously held up both her hands. “But he's fine, dear. Very fine, in fact. He caught a thief. Just imagine! And the police gave him a thousand marks as a reward. What do you say to that? Hmm? And they want you to come to Berlin on the afternoon train.”

“But how do you know all this?”

“You sister Martha just called me at my shop. I talked to Emil for a bit as well. And you really should go! Now that you have so much money, it shouldn't be a problem.”

“Well, well…I suppose…” murmured a distraught Mrs. Tabletoe. “A thousand marks? For catching a thief? What on earth was he thinking? All he ever does is get into trouble!”

“But it was worth it! A thousand marks is a lot of money after all.”

“You can have your thousand marks!”

“Well, worse things have happened. So, are you going to Berlin?”

“Of course! I won't have a moment's rest until I see that boy again.”

“Well, then have a good trip! And have fun!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Worth,” said the hairdresser and closed the door, shaking her head.

That afternoon, sitting on the train to Berlin, Emil's mother was in for an even greater surprise. Across from her a man was reading the paper. She looked nervously from one corner to the other, counted the telephone poles going by outside the window, and would have liked nothing more than to get out and push the train from behind. It was going much too slowly for her.

While she was fidgeting and turning her head this way and that, her eyes landed on the newspaper.

“Oh my God!” she shouted and ripped the paper out of the man's hands. The man thought the woman had suddenly lost her mind and got scared.

“There! There!” she stammered. “This here…that's my son!” She poked with her finger at a photograph on the front page.

“You don't say!” said the man with relief. “So you're the mother of Emil Tabletoe? You have a gem of a son. Hats off to you, Mrs. Tabletoe, hats off to you!”

“Well,” said the hairdresser. “You can leave your hat on, mister!” And she began to read the article. It had an enormous headline:

 

BOY DETECTIVE!

H
UNDREDS OF
B
ERLIN
K
IDS
C
ATCH
C
RIMINAL

 

Then came a long and gripping report about everything Emil had experienced from the New Town train station to the police headquarters in Berlin. The blood drained from Mrs. Tabletoe's face. And the newspaper trembled as if the wind were blowing through the compartment, even though the windows were shut. The man could hardly wait for her to finish reading the article. But it was quite long and took up almost the whole front page. Right in the middle was Emil's picture.

At last she put the paper down, looked at the man, and said, “Hardly does he leave the house than he gets into trouble. If I told him once I told him a thousand times to keep an eye on that hundred and forty marks! How could he be so careless? He knows perfectly well we don't have money for other people to steal!”

“But he got sleepy. Maybe the thief even hypnotized him. It can happen,” said the man. “But don't you think it's great how those boys handled the situation? They were amazing! Absolutely brilliant!”

“I suppose you're right,” said Mrs. Tabletoe, flattered. “He certainly is a smart boy, my son is. Always the top student in school and a hard worker, besides. But what if something had happened to him! It makes my hair stand on end, even though it's all over now. No, I can't let him travel by himself ever again. I'd die of fear.”

“Does he look just like he does in the picture?” asked the man.

Mrs. Tabletoe looked at the photograph again and said, “Yes. Just like that. What do you think?”

“He's great!” exclaimed the man. “What a guy. He's got success written all over his face.”

“But he should have sat up straight for the picture,” Emil's mother griped. “His jacket is all wrinkled. He should always button it up before he sits down. But he never listens!”

“Ha, with faults like that …!” laughed the man.

“It's true, he doesn't really have any faults, my Emil,” said Mrs. Tabletoe. She choked up and had to blow her nose…

Then the man got off the train.

He let her keep the newspaper, and she read Emil's story over and over on the way to Frederick Street Station. Eleven times total.

When she arrived in Berlin, Emil was standing on the platform. He was wearing his good suit in her honor. He gave her a big hug and exclaimed, “So, what do you think, huh?”

“Don't let it go to your head, you oaf!”

“Oh, Mrs. Tabletoe,” he said and took her arm in his, “I'm so happy you came!”

“Well, I can see catching criminals hasn't done your suit much good,” said his mother. But she did not sound very angry.

“If you want, I can get a new suit.”

“From whom?”

“A department store wants to give the Professor and Gus and me new suits and put ads in the newspapers about how detectives like us only buy our suits from them. It's marketing. Get it?”

“Yes, I get it.”

“But we'll probably say no, even though we could each get a soccer ball instead of a boring suit,” Emil boasted. “We think all the commotion they're making about us is pretty ridiculous, you know. The grown-ups are welcome to do whatever they want. They're weird anyway. But kids shouldn't bother.”

“Bravo!” said his mother.

“Uncle Robert locked the money away. A thousand marks. Isn't that cool? The first thing we'll buy is an electric salon dryer for you. And a winter coat with a fur lining. As for me? I'll have to think first. Maybe I'll get a soccer ball. Or a camera. We'll see.”

“I was thinking it might be better to put the money away in a savings account. I'm sure you'll have a need for it someday in the future.”

“No, you'll get the dryer and the warm coat. We can put away what's left, if you want.”

“Well, we can talk about it later,” said Emil's mother and gave his arm a squeeze.

“Did you know that all the newspapers have pictures of me in them? And long articles about me?”

“I read one of them in the train. I was very upset at first, Emil! Did you get hurt?”

“Not at all. It was awesome! Well, I'll tell you all about it later. But first you have to meet my friends.”

“Where are they?”

“Over on Schumann Street. At Aunt Martha's. She made an apple pie yesterday, and we invited the whole gang over. They're sitting at home making a big commotion.”

There really was a lot going on at the Heimbold residence. Everyone was there: Gus, the Professor, Crumbagel, the Middleday brothers, Gerold, Freddie the Great, Truegut, little Tuesday, and the rest. There were hardly enough chairs to go around. With a big pitcher in hand, Pony the Hat ran from one to the other, serving hot chocolate. Aunt Martha's apple pie was poetry in a pan! And Grandma sat on the sofa, beaming and looking ten years younger.

When Emil and his mom came in, they all said hello and introduced themselves. Mrs. Tabletoe shook each boy's hand in turn and thanked them for having helped her son. “So look,” Emil announced, “we're not accepting the suits or the soccer balls. They're not going to make commercials out of us. What do you think of that?”

“Right on!” shouted Gus and honked his horn so loud that Aunt Martha's flowerpots rattled.

Then Grandma struck her spoon a few times against her gold-colored coffee cup, stood up, and said, “Listen up, troopers. I want to make a speech. Now, don't let this business go to your heads! Personally, I don't think what you did was so special. Other people may be driving you all bananas. But I'm not buying it. No, I just don't buy it!”

The children fell completely silent and even stopped chewing.

“A hundred children chasing a thief and catching him like that,” Grandma went on. “Well, that's not hard at all. Does it bother you that I'm saying this, boys? There's one of you here, though, who would have been very happy to go tiptoeing after Mr. Groundsnow. He'd have liked nothing more than to snoop around the hotel dressed up as a bellhop. But he stayed at home because he took on a responsibility. That's right, because he had a responsibility.”

Everyone looked over at little Tuesday. His face had gone brick-red, he was so embarrassed.

“That's right, that's right! I'm talking about little Tuesday,” said the old woman. “He spent two days sitting by the phone. He knew what his duty was. And he did it, even if he didn't particularly enjoy it. That was amazing, you understand? What he did was amazing! He should be an example to all of you! So let's all stand up and shout: Hurray for little Tuesday!”

The boys jumped to their feet. Pony the Hat held her hands to her mouth like a trumpet. Aunt Martha and Emil's mother came out of the kitchen. And everyone shouted, “Hurray for little Tuesday! Hurray! Hurray!”

Then they all sat down again. And little Tuesday took a deep breath and said, “Thanks, guys. But you're making a big deal out of it. You would've done the same thing, I'm sure! A real boy does what he has to do!”

Pony the Hat held up the big pitcher and yelled, “Hey folks, who needs more to drink? It's time to toast Emil!”