Hiss Me Deadly (4 page)

I turned to Natalie. "Shakespeare it ain't."

"But it does get the point across," she said.

Sirens wailed. A police van pulled to the curb, and the officers forced their way through. Within minutes, they had wound the serpents around long poles like some strange snack (Snakes on a Stick?) and carried them off to the paddy wagon.

"This isn't the last of it, Zero!" Percy screamed as the cops loaded him in. "Open up to snakes, or I'll make this school pay!"

With a screech of tires and a whiff of burning rubber, the cops took off. Mr. Zero planted his paws on his hips and surveyed the crowd of students.

"Well, what are you all gaping at?" he said. "Get to class!"

When the big cat says get, you get. We got.

***

Schoolwork can really cramp a detective's style. Mr. Ratnose was still out, and Ms. Dwyer was full of more hot air than a volcano's belch. After endless lectures and two pop quizzes, recess at last limped into sight.

Finally I could get some work done.

Natalie met me in the crowded hallway. "You look grumpy," she said.

"This substitute teacher is really griping my grits."

She held up a wing. "I know what'll cheer you up. Knock, knock."

I shook my head. "Can we just work on our case?"

"Who's there," said Natalie, mimicking my voice.

"Panther," she said, and gave me the eye.

"Okay, panther who?" I asked.

"Panther no panth, I'm going swimming!" Natalie cackled so hard, she bumped into a passing armadillo. He promptly curled into a ball and tumbled down the hall.

"Sorry!" she called after him.

I grabbed her shoulder. "Can we get down to business now?"

"Absolutely," she said with a smirk. "Lead on, O Great Detective."

I patrolled the corridors with Natalie, keeping an eye out for suspicious behavior. Maybe the thief would try to strike again, and then we'd nail him.

As we were passing the library, something went, "
Psst!
"

I waved a hand before my face. "Natalie, I told you beans and berries don't mix."

"Wasn't me," she said.

The "
Psst!
" came again, louder. Just ahead, peeking around the corner, was a familiar face: Anna Motta-Pia, junior janitor.

"Over here," she said. "I've got a lead for your case."

We hurried back into the shadow of the library. The rabbit leaned on a rake, looking around nervously.

"About that theft...," said Anna.

"Yes?" asked Natalie.

The rabbit's whiskers twitched. "I figured out someone else who might have a key. Y'all know the new music teacher?"

I crinkled my forehead. "Um, that big kitty who's filling in for Zoomin' Mayta?"

Natalie snapped her wing tip. "He's a lynx," she said. "Gustav Mauler."

"Sho 'nuff," said the rabbit. "Music teachers have a key to every classroom, 'cause they teach all over school."

"Hmm," I said.

Anna lowered her voice to a whisper. "
And
he's
always pussyfooting around the halls when everybody's at lunch or recess."

Natalie cocked her head. "But why would a music teacher steal?"

"They don't get paid diddly-poo," said the custodian. "Hardly enough to keep them in bow wax and trumpet polish."

My eyes met Natalie's. "Sounds like a motive to me," I said, my spirits rising. "Thanks, Anna. You're a peach."

Before we could hoof it, the rabbit caught my sleeve. "Chet, I'd druther you didn't let Mr. Mauler know you heard it from me. Rabbits and lynxes, we're like Yankees and Rebels."

I crisscrossed my lips with a finger. "Mum's the word, ma'am. Let's go, Natalie."

We prowled the halls, on the lookout for a big old lynx. Third-grade classrooms ... nope. Second-grade classrooms ... nada.

Near the fourth-grade building, we struck pay dirt. "Mauler at two o'clock," I muttered to Natalie.

"But Chet," she said, "it's only ten thirty."

I rolled my eyes. "Not the time, birdie, the
position.
Twelve o'clock is straight ahead; two o'clock is a bit to the right."

She looked over at me. "Sometimes you say the weirdest things."

We pulled back behind the corner to spy on Mr. Gustav Mauler. Anna was right—he was lurking. Twice he edged up to Ms. Reckonwith's locked door, and twice backed away when someone passed.

Was the lynx working up his nerve to break in?

We'd never know for sure, because Waldo the furball chose that exact moment to blow our cover.

"Hey, it's Chet and Natalie!" he cried. "Working hard, or hardly working?
Hur, hur, hur.
"

I raised a finger to my lips. Too late.

The lynx had spotted us. He stalked up the hall, oozing menace. Mauler's scowl was dark enough to cause a rainstorm in the Sahara, and his fangs twinkled in that special, so-pleased-to-bite-you way.

He loomed over us. "And vhat," asked Gustav Mauler, "are
you
up to?"

Waldo gulped. His eyes bugged out like baseballs in a sock.

"Vell?" rumbled Mr. Mauler. "Vhat are you doing?"

"The Hokey Pokey," I said, sticking my right foot in and shaking it all about. "What are
you
doing?"

Gustav Mauler snarled. As snarls go, it was pretty convincing. He looked tougher than Bulgarian algebra and deadlier than a poot in a sleeping bag.

"Since vhen is dot your business?" he said. "I'm de teacher; you're de student."

I eyed his burly frame. "If
you're
a music teacher, I'm Mother Goose."

"You tink I cannot giff you detention?" he
growled. "Vould you like to go to de playground now, or vould you like to find out?"

Waldo tugged on my sleeve. "Playground?" he said. "Pretty please?"

The lynx extended a thick arm and pointed. "Get lost."

I tipped my hat, and we ambled off. "Interesting," I said to Natalie once we were out of earshot.

"Very," she said.

Waldo blinked at us. "Is detective work always this scary? If it is, I don't want to play anymore."

I turned to Natalie. "Let's be thankful for small favors."

Back in class, our substitute flapped her gums about earth science, while I gazed at the blackboard, unseeing. My mind was farther away than a summer vacation on Neptune.

What path should we try next? Mr. Mauler seemed to be hiding something, but then, so did Johnny Ringo. Was one of them the thief?

The porcupine gabbed. I mused. Maybe I was on the wrong track. Maybe I should be finding witnesses instead of grilling suspects....

The sound of my own name broke into my thoughts.

Ms. Dwyer was giving me the fish eye. "You
are
Chet Gecko, aren't you?"

"Uh, last time I checked."

"Then why don't you tell us all about earth tremors?"

I scratched my chin. "Um ... well, I do know one thing about 'em. I know what happens to cows in an earthquake."

"What's that?" she asked.

"They give milk shakes," I said.

My classmates' chuckles were chopped off by the porcupine's glare. Her beady-eyed gaze returned to me. "Are you looking for trouble?"

"Nope," I said. "But it comes whether I look or not."

"If you can't speak respectfully, I'm sending you to the principal's office."

I shrugged. "Might as well. I'm not getting much done here."

"That's it!" Ms. Dwyer's quills bristled like an attack cactus. "You're getting double homework."

"
Double!?
But I've got real work to do!"

She scribbled on a pink pad and thrust the note at me. "Go see Mr. Zero right now."

I bit back a smart remark, took the slip, and shuffled out the door.

The halls echoed with the cries of little kids on
their lunch break. I brightened. Maybe I could do some investigating on my way to being punished.

Halfway to the office, I spotted my sister playing with two other munchkins out on the grass.

"Pinky!" I called.

Her head went up, and her eyes got big. She trotted over.

"Chet!" she said. "You found it!"

"Not yet, runt," I said.

Pinky's chin quivered. "But... but what if Mom needs the necklace for her party tomorrow?"

"No worries," I said. "I'll find it long before then."

She gave me a tiny, hopeful smile.

I pasted on a confident grin. But inside, I was plenty worried. A hard-bitten detective hates to admit it, but it's nice to have someone who looks up to you. And I didn't want to see Pinky's trust turn to disgust.

Even if she was my bratty little sister.

"Tell your friends to come over," I said. "I want to ask them about the thefts."

But just then, a flying squirrel with a hall monitor's badge barreled up to us. "What are you doing here, girlie?" she said around a huge wad of gum. "Get back out on the playground. Scat!"

Pinky hightailed it onto the grass.

I checked out the squirrel. She was the same critter I'd seen earlier, swapping spit with another sixth grader.

Loose flaps of skin hung between her front and back legs like a furry cape. The chewing gum pushed her cheeks into balloons, and her black beret, the hall monitor's uniform, dipped at a dangerous angle. Her badge read:
LUZ LIPPS.

She noticed my inspection. "Take a picture," said Luz. "It'll last longer."

"Shucks," I said. "And me with no camera."

"So." She popped the gum. "What's
your
business?"

"Monkey business," I said, and waved my pink slip.

The squirrel scowled. "You better get your tail up to the office."

I bowed. "When you put it so sweetly, how can I refuse?"

With a last tough-gal look, she swaggered off down the hall. I made my way to the principal's office.

As always, Mrs. Crow sat at her station. I don't think I'd recognize her without the counter covering half of her body.

"Well, well," she croaked. "To what do I owe this honor?"

I flashed the note. "To my big mouth."

"Now there's a surprise."

"Is Mr. Wonderful in?" I asked.

"Whaddaya know?" said Mrs. Crow. "He is. I'm sure he'd love to see you."

If Mr. Zero felt something when he saw me, it probably wasn't love. It was something cold and hard, with more teeth in it. Squaring my shoulders, I padded across the reception area and up to the half-open red door.

In answer to my knock, a smooth voice purred, "Come in, Gecko."

I trudged up to the wide black desk. Behind it, Emerson Hicky's fearless leader was sharpening his claws on the office drapes. I knew how they felt.

"What is it this time?" said the massive tomcat, turning to face me.

I plunked the pink slip onto his desk. "The substitute doesn't like me."

"Imagine that," he rumbled, and scanned the note.

"In my defense, let me say I was working on a case."

"Mister, you
are
a case." He smoothed his whiskers. "You're nothing but trouble, you avoid your schoolwork, and you have a bad attitude. And do you know what I plan do about it?"

I braced myself. "What?"

His fangs glinted in a smile. "Hire you."

You could've knocked me over with a hummingbird feather.

"Uh..." I gaped. "You, uh, want to hire me?"

Mr. Zero leaned onto his forearms. "Gecko, despite all your faults, you actually have solved a case or two."

"Gee, thanks," I said.

The principal's claws emerged. His eyes narrowed. "And now I've got a case that needs solving. Things have begun disappearing around school."

Yeah, like my mom's necklace,
I thought.

"At first, we didn't worry much—a watch here, a camera there. But last night, two computers went missing from the library."

I whistled. "Them's big potatoes. Any clues?"

Mr. Zero's claws sank into his scarred desktop.
"None," he rumbled. "No sign of a break-in; no evidence left behind."

"Impressive," I said. "This operation is slicker than greased duck snot."

The principal raised an eyebrow.

"If you'll, uh, pardon the phrase," I said.

"I want you to help me shut down this thief," he said. "Pronto."

I spread my hands. "I'm flattered, boss man. Lil' old me? But why haven't you called in John Q. Law—you know, the cops?"

"You're suspicious for a fourth grader."

"It's a suspicious world," I said.

The principal tilted back and rubbed his watermelon gut with a paw. He seemed to be chewing something over.

"Very well," he said. "We can't call the police because I don't want any word of this to get out."

"Afraid it'll scare off the tourists?" I asked.

"No, Gecko. If the school superintendent hears that we've got thieves, he won't let us display the Flubberjee Egg."

I blinked. "The who-bejee what?"

His eyebrows drew together like two caterpillars smooching. "Do you pay
any
attention to what happens at this school?"

"As little as possible."

"The egg is a rare jewel being shown at the fair tomorrow. If the super hears we've got a theft problem, he won't let it come here."

I scratched my chin. "And this would be a problem because...?"

He leaned forward. "No egg, no big crowds. No big crowds, no big money for our fund-raiser. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good," he said. "Catch the thief before the fair."

I tilted my hat back. "If I do, what's in it for me?"

"I look the other way the next three times you get in trouble."

"And if I don't catch him?" I asked.

Quick as a cop on a doughnut, Mr. Zero's paw shot out. His razor claws shredded my pink slip.

"Do I make myself clear?" he growled.

"As a poltergeist's X-ray."

"Then I suggest you hop to it."

I may not be a bunny, but I know a good idea when I hear it. Out the door I hopped.

Suddenly, our case had mushroomed from something personal to something that affected the whole school. The pressure was on. Come lunchtime, I tore through my brown-bag lunch like a shark through a goldfish picnic.

Natalie watched me. "Are we in a race?" she said, pecking at her wormy apple crisp.