Emil and the Detectives (4 page)

S
UDDENLY
E
MIL HAD THE FEELING THAT THE TRAIN WAS
going in spirals, like the toy train sets that kids play with in their rooms. He looked out the window and found it all very strange. The spiral kept getting smaller. The engine kept coming closer to the caboose, and it looked like it was doing it on purpose! The train was running in circles like a dog trying to bite its own tail. And there in the middle of that furious black circle stood trees and a windmill made of glass and a towering skyscraper two hundred floors high.

Emil wanted to check the time and started to take his watch out of his pocket. He pulled and pulled on the chain, but what came out was Mom's grandfather clock from the living room. He looked at the face and the time read “115 miles per hour. Danger! Spitting on the floor prohibited on penalty of death!” He looked out the window again. The engine was drawing even closer to the caboose. And he was terrified, because if the engine ran into the caboose there would be a train wreck. That much was clear. And Emil had no interest in waiting around until it happened. He opened the door and ran down the sideboard. Maybe the engineer had fallen asleep? Emil peered into the compartment windows as he clambered forward. There was no one inside. The train was empty. Emil saw only one person, a man with a bowler hat made of chocolate. The man broke off part of the brim and ate it. Emil knocked on his window and pointed at the engine. But the man only laughed, broke off another piece of chocolate, and rubbed his belly because it tasted so good.

Finally Emil made it to the coal car. He nimbly monkey-barred his way up to the engineer, who was sitting on a coach seat, brandishing his whip and holding the reins as if the train were being pulled by a team of horses. And as a matter of fact, it was! Three rows of three horses each were pulling the train. They had silver rollerskates on their hoofs and were gliding on them down the rails, singing, “M errily merrily merrily merrily, life is but a dream.”

Emil shook the coachman and shouted, “Pull up the horses! We're about to crash!” Then he saw that the coachman was none other than Officer Jeschke. The man glared at him and yelled, “Who were the other boys? Who defaced the Grand Duke?”

“I did it!” said Emil.

“Who else?”

“I'm not saying!”

“Then we'll just have to keep going in circles!”

Officer Jeschke cracked the whip so that his horses reared up and took off even faster than before after the caboose. And there at the back of the caboose was Mrs. Jacob, waving her shoes around, visibly terrified of the horses, who were snapping at her toes.

“I'll give you twenty marks, Officer Jeschke!” cried Emil. “Pipe down, will you!” shouted Jeschke and began whipping his horses like a madman.

Emil couldn't take it any longer and jumped off the train. He turned twenty somersaults down the hill, but made it without a scratch. He stood up and looked around for the train. While he was standing there like that, all nine horses turned their heads toward him. Officer Jeschke had jumped up and was thrashing them with his whip, roaring, “Giddy up! Follow him!” The horses leaped off the rails and charged at Emil, the cars bouncing after them like rubber balls.

Emil didn't stop to think, he simply ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. Across a field, past a great number of trees, and through a creek toward the skyscraper. Now and then he looked back. The train thundered after him without letting up. It flattened the trees and broke them to splinters. Only one tree, an enormous oak, was left standing, and there in its highest branches sat fat Mrs. Jacob, swaying in the wind, crying and trying in vain to get her shoe back on. Emil kept running.

The two-hundred-floor-high skyscraper had a large, black door. He ran in it and through the building and out the other side. The train came after him. Emil would have liked nothing more than to sit down in a corner and fall asleep, he was so awfully tired, his whole body was shaking with exhaustion. But he couldn't doze off! The train was already clattering through the skyscraper.

Emil saw an iron ladder running up the side of the skyscraper to the top. He started climbing up. Luckily he was a good athlete. As he was climbing, he counted the floors. At the fiftieth floor he actually turned and looked down. The trees had gotten extremely small, and the glass windmill was hardly recognizable. But—no! The train was driving up the side of the building! Emil kept climbing higher and higher. And the train stomped and roared up the ladder as if it were a train track.

The 100th floor, the 120th floor, 140th, 160th, 180th, the 200th floor! Emil stood on the roof and had no idea what he should do next. He could already hear the horses' neighing. So the boy ran across the roof to the opposite end, pulled his handkerchief from his suit, and unfolded it. And just as the sweating horses came climbing over the parapet with the train in tow, Emil held his unfurled handkerchief over his head and jumped off. He heard the train knocking over the chimneys behind him. Then for a while he neither heard nor saw anything at all.

And then he landed with a thud. Boom! He was in a field.

At first he just lay there, exhausted, his eyes closed, and wanted nothing more than to drift into a pleasant dream. But he didn't feel entirely safe yet, so he looked up at the skyscraper and saw the nine horses up on top opening umbrellas. Officer Jeschke had an umbrella, too, and was using it to prod the horses. They sat up on their hind legs, hopped forward a little, and jumped into the air. And now the train was sailing down toward the field, growing larger and larger.

Emil jumped to his feet again and took off across the field toward the glass windmill. It was translucent, and he saw his mother inside, shampooing Mrs. Augustin's hair. Thank God, he thought, and ran into the windmill through the back door.

“Mom!” he yelled. “What should I do?”

“What's wrong, dear?” his mother asked, and went on shampooing.

“Look out the wall!”

Mrs. Tabletoe looked out and saw the horses and train land on the field and charge off toward the windmill.

“Why, it's Officer Jeschke,” said Emil's mom, and shook her head in amazement.

“He's been racing after me like a madman all day!”

“Is that so?”

“A few days ago I was on the main square, and I painted a red nose and a moustache on the face of Grand Duke Charles with the crooked cheek.”

“Well, where else where you supposed to put the moustache?” said Mrs. Augustin with a snort.

“Nowhere, Mrs. Augustin. But that's not the worst of it. He wanted to know who else was there with me. But I can't tell him that. It's a question of honor.”

“Emil's got a point,” said his mother. “But what do we do now?”

“Why not simply turn on the motor, Mrs. Tabletoe?” said Mrs. Augustin.

Emil's mom pulled down a lever on the table, and the windmill's four sails began to turn. Because they were made of glass and the sun was shining, they gleamed and shimmered so much that you could hardly look at them. When the nine horses and their train came running up, they got spooked, reared up on their hind legs, and refused to go a step further. Officer Jeschke swore so loudly you could hear it through the glass walls. But the horses wouldn't budge.

“There. Now would you please continue shampooing my scalp?” said Mrs. Augustin, “Your boy has nothing to worry about now.”

So Mrs. Tabletoe the hairdresser got back to work. Emil sat down on a chair, which was made of glass as well, and let out a whistle. Then he laughed and said, “Well that's just great. If I'd known you were here, I wouldn't have bothered climbing up that darn skyscraper.”

“I hope you didn't tear your suit!” said his mom.

Then she asked, “Did you keep your eye on the money?”

At that, Emil felt a sudden jolt and fell off the glass chair with a loud crash.

And woke up.

T
HE TRAIN WAS JUST STARTING TO MOVE AGAIN WHEN HE
woke up. He had fallen off the seat while he was sleeping and now lay on the floor in a state of shock. But he still didn't know exactly why. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer. There he was, sitting in a train, and he had practically forgotten how he'd gotten there. Gradually it all came back to him. Right—he was on his way to Berlin. And he'd fallen asleep. Just like the man in the bowler hat…

All of a sudden Emil sat bolt upright and gasped, “He's gone!” His knees started shaking. Slowly, deliberately, he stood up and mechanically patted down his suit. Then came the next question: Is the money still there? It was a question he was almost too scared to ask.

For a long time he stood leaning against the door without daring to move. That man Groundsnow had been sitting right over there, sleeping and snoring. And now he was gone. Of course, nothing at all might have happened. Actually, it was silly to fear the worst, first thing. He couldn't expect the whole world to be traveling to Frederick Street Station in Berlin just because he was. And no doubt the money was right where he'd left it. First of all, it was in his pocket. Second, it was in an envelope. And third, he'd fastened it with a pin to the lining. Slowly he reached into the right inside pocket…

The pocket was empty! The money was gone!

Emil rummaged through the pocket with his left hand. He patted and squeezed the front of the jacket with his right. But it didn't help. The pocket was empty, and the money was gone.

“Ouch!” Emil pulled his hand out of the pocket, and along with it the pin he'd stuck through the money. Nothing was left but that pin. And now it was stuck in his left index finger, making it bleed.

He wrapped his handkerchief around the finger and cried. Not because of a few ridiculous drops of blood, of course. Fourteen days ago Emil had run into a street light, almost knocking it over, and he still had a bump on his forehead. But he didn't cry for a second over that.

He was crying because of the money. And he was crying because of his mother. And if you don't understand why, no matter how tough you may think you are, then you're beyond help. Emil knew how his mother had slaved away for months in order to save up the hundred and forty marks for his grandmother and to send him to Berlin. And hardly had her pride and joy sat down in the train, then he leaned back in a corner, fell asleep, had a crazy dream, and let himself be robbed blind by a dirty, rotten lowlife. And he's not supposed to cry? What was he supposed to do now? Get off the train in Berlin and say to Grandma, “Well, here I am. And guess what, you're not getting your money. But can I have some dough for my ticket back to New Town? Otherwise I'll have to walk…”?

Oh, this was just wonderful! Mom had saved all that money for nothing. And Grandma wasn't going to get a single penny of it. No way could he stay in Berlin. And he couldn't go home either. All because of that jerk who handed out chocolate to kids, pretended he was asleep, and then robbed them! Insanity! What kind of world was this?!

Emil's tears kept wanting to flow, but he choked them back and had a look around. If he pulled the emergency brake, the train would immediately come to a standstill. Then a conductor would come. And then another. And yet another. And they would all ask him, “What's going on?”

“I've been robbed,” he would say.

And they'd say, “Next time you'll have to be more careful. Get back on the train. What's your name? Where do you live? Pulling that emergency brake will cost you a hundred marks. You'll get the bill in the mail.”

In the express trains you could at least walk from car to car, from one end of the train to the other, all the way to the conductor's compartment, and report the theft. But here! In a slow train like this! You had to wait until the next station, and then the man in the bowler would be miles away. Emil didn't even know at which station the guy had gotten out. What time was it anyway? When would they be in Berlin? Large buildings and mansions with colorful lawns wandered by the train windows, followed by more dirty red brick chimneys. This was probably Berlin already. He would have to find the conductor at the next station and tell him everything. And the conductor would immediately report it to the police!

Oh, brother! Now he'd have the police to deal with, too. Naturally, Officer Jeschke would have to say something and make a report, “I don't know, but I don't like the looks of that New Town schoolboy Emil Tabletoe. First he paints all over our venerable monuments. Then he lets himself get robbed of a hundred and forty marks. Maybe the money wasn't even stolen? Defacers of statues are likely to be liars, too. I've seen it before. Maybe he buried the money in the forest or hid it and plans to go to America with it? There's no sense in looking for the thief. The thief is Emil Tabletoe himself. I beg you, Your Honor, have him arrested.”

This was terrible. He couldn't even tell the police!

He pulled his suitcase down from the luggage rack, put on his cap, stuck the pin back in his lapel, and got ready. He had no idea what he was going to do. But he couldn't stand to spend another five minutes in that compartment. That was certain.

In the meantime, the train had started slowing down. Emil saw a great number of gleaming rails outside. Then platforms slowly moving by. A couple of porters ran alongside the cars, hoping to earn a few marks.

The train stopped!

Emil looked out the window and saw, way up over the tracks, a sign: ZOO STATION. The doors flew open. People clambered out of the cars. Others were waiting and smiling out on the platform, their arms open wide.

Emil leaned far out the window, looking for the engineer. There, at some distance and in the middle of the crowd, he caught sight of a black bowler. Maybe it was the thief? Maybe he hadn't gotten off the train after robbing Emil, but simply went into another car?

Minutes later, Emil was standing on the platform. He put down his suitcase, went back inside the train because he'd left the flowers up on the luggage rack, returned to the platform, grabbed his suitcase, hoisted it up, and ran as fast as he could toward the exit.

Where had the bowler hat gone? The boy stumbled over people's legs, jabbed someone with the suitcase, but kept running. The crowd got more and more packed and impenetrable.

Over there! There was the bowler! But wait, there was another one over there! Emil could hardly carry the suitcase anymore. He really would've liked to set it down somewhere and leave it. But then his suitcase would get stolen, too!

Finally he pushed his way through to where the bowler hats were.

That could be him! Was it?

No.

There was the other one.

Not him either. Too short.

Emil slipped through the crowd like an Indian.

There! There!

That was him. Thank God! It was Groundsnow. He was just going through the gate and seemed to be in a hurry.

“Just wait, you slimeball!” Emil snarled. “We'll get you yet!” Then he gave the attendant his ticket, took his suitcase in the other hard, jammed the bouquet of flowers under his right arm, and followed the man down the steps.

This was it.