Honeybee Mystery (8 page)

“Especially for you two,” Benny said to her and Henry. “If Mr. Carlson turned around, he'd recognize you.”

Henry sighed. “With the way our luck's going, I'll bet they're saying some really important stuff, too. Stuff that could help us get to the bottom of things.”

Violet shook her head. “If only there was some way …”

“I know what you mean,” said Henry, staring down at his plate. Suddenly, though, he looked back up. “I've got an idea!” He whispered something to Grandfather, who thought for a moment, then nodded yes.

“What is it?” asked Benny. “Can I help?”

“You sure can,” said Henry. “You can eat my bagel!”

Jessie laughed. “What? Why?”

“Because I'm going to order another one!” said Henry, standing up suddenly. He walked across the restaurant to where the two men were sitting and quietly slid into the empty booth just behind them. One of the waitresses, thinking Henry was a new customer, came over to take his order. Then, while he waited for his food, the other Aldens could see him leaning back in his seat slightly in order to hear what Mr. Price and Mr. Carlson were saying.

“Oh, I get it,” said Violet, giggling.

“And I'll make sure this bagel gets eaten!” said Benny.

The waitress eventually brought Henry's order — a bagel with butter and a glass of grapefruit juice — and he ate it as if he were any other customer on any other day. About fifteen minutes later, Mr. Price got up, shook hands with Mr. Carlson, and left. Shortly thereafter Mr. Carlson also left, but not before leaving some money on the table to cover the check.

When Henry finally returned to the Aldens' table, the five of them looked at one another with silent smiles. Then the children broke into laughter. The customers seated nearby looked over to see what was so amusing.

Catching her breath, Jessie said, “Okay, so did you hear anything important?”

Still smiling, Henry nodded. “I sure did. I'm glad I went over there.”

“Well, tell us,” Jessie said. “Don't keep us in the dark!”

“Okay,” Henry said. “But I'm not sure you're going to believe this.…”

Renee Trowbridge arrived at the Aldens' house for dinner shortly before six o'clock that evening, and she wore the smile of someone who had good news to share. In the Aldens' dining room, Grandfather sat at the head of the long table, the children on either side, and their guest at the other end. Mrs. McGregor, their housekeeper, had made roast chicken with red potatoes and vegetables, including some string beans Grandfather had bought at the Shermans' farm. It smelled irresistible.

“So I think you'd better tell us your big news,” Grandfather said to Renee as they began passing bowls around. “I doubt the kids can cover up their curiosity with politeness much longer.”

“And we have some news, too!” Benny said, beaming with excitement. Jessie handed him a basket of hot rolls, and he took two without even looking. “Some really big news!”

Renee smiled. “That's great. Well, I guess I'll go first. It turns out,” she began, “there is a way to stop the effects of Menadrin.”

Violet responded first. “You're kidding!”

“Nope. What happens is it just wears off. That is, of course, unless you keep spraying it on the flowers.”

“That's great, Renee,” Grandfather said.

“Except it probably takes a while, right, Renee?” asked Henry.

“You guessed it. Three weeks, at least,” Renee answered.

Grandfather shrugged. “Well, it's better than nothing. At least the Shermans and Hennessey can get their bees going again. What else, Renee?”

Renee reached down into her briefcase by her chair and pulled out a folder filled with news clippings. “I did a little research and found out that Menadrin was produced by a chemical company called Pioneer Laboratories. They were based in New Jersey, which, as you know, is not too far from here. They thought they'd invented a miracle potion for growing fruits and vegetables, like I said a few days ago, and they were so sure it was going to be a hit that they produced tons and tons of it. They poured a lot of money into the project. It was a huge risk, but they gambled that there would be no side effects.” She raised one eyebrow and said, “They were wrong.”

“Sounds like someone lost a load of money,” Grandfather observed.

Renee nodded. “Sure did. Someone lost a
fortune.
”

“Wow!” Jessie said.

Benny couldn't keep quiet about their own news any longer. “We were in the diner this morning, and we saw Mr. Price talking to another man, a man we saw on the Shermans' farm a few days ago. When we first saw him, he told us his name was Mr. Carlson, but when Henry overheard them talking, Mr. Price called him Mr. Wentworth.”

“
Tyler
Wentworth,” Henry added.

“Oh, my goodness,” said Renee. “He was the owner of Pioneer Laboratories!”

She pulled a magazine article out of her folder and showed it to the Aldens. One of the pages showed a man's photograph with the caption
Tyler Wentworth
, and the children recognized him instantly.

“Let me guess — he's the man who lost all the money, right?” said Henry.

Renee nodded. “That's right. He lost so much that he had to go out of business. No one's heard much about him since. It probably ruined him.”

Grandfather said, “This is starting to make sense now. I'll bet the first thing that was on Tyler Wentworth's mind when he learned that he was going to lose all that money was how to get it back.”

“By making it so the Shermans' bees didn't produce any more honey?” Renee asked. “That doesn't make sense.”

“Unless Mr. Wentworth decided to go into the honey business himself,” said Henry. “And from what I overheard today, he has!”

“You mean the reason Wentworth was talking to Mr. Price was because he was trying to get that big contract?” asked Renee.

“And it was very good for him that both Sherman and Hennessey were having trouble with their bees at the same time,” Violet added. “That meant Mr. Price would be stuck, right, Grandfather? And he'd have to buy honey from someone else.”

“That's right,” Grandfather said.

“In fact,” said Henry, “that's exactly what they were talking about in the diner — the contract. Still, I suppose it could be a coincidence. I wish we had one more clue.”

“Wait,” said Jessie. “I remember Mr. Wentworth had all these red marks on his arms. Could that be a sign that he was the one who sprayed the Menadrin on the wild-flowers?”

“It certainly could be,” Renee told her. “Menadrin is known to cause mild rashes on the skin, even without direct contact. If you sprayed it without gloves and long sleeves and the wind blew it back onto you … sure, you could very easily develop a rash.”

Everyone fell silent as they considered what this meant.

Violet said, “I think this is the big break we've needed.”

“So what's next?” Renee asked.

“I think it's time to give the Shermans a call,” Henry said.

CHAPTER 9

A Fair Price

E
veryone ate quickly, then piled into the station wagon and headed over to the Shermans' farm. At one point in the journey Grandfather joked that they were “making a
beeline
” over there, but instead of laughter all he got was a round of groans.

The Shermans were pretty depressed when the Aldens arrived.

“John Price came by today,” sighed Dottie, “and it was so hard to tell him that we don't have any honey.”

Clay was slumped in his chair. “He said he had no choice but to find someone else this year. Can't say I blame him.”

“Oh, no,” gasped Violet. She hated to see them so upset.
Maybe we're too late to help them
, she thought.

“Mr. Price is a good man, though,” Dottie was saying. “He said he'll check back with us next season to see if we've got honey.”

“He even said he'd give the contract back to us
this
season if we could somehow come up with enough honey in these next two months before the delivery date,” said Clay, though clearly he didn't think this was possible.

“Well, Mr. Sherman, you just might be able to pull it off,” said Renee. Soon she and the Aldens were telling the Shermans all their news. “Trust me, the Menadrin will wear off in time,” she told Clay and Dottie.

“Thank goodness!” said Dottie. But Clay still had a reason to be upset.

“You mean this Tyler Wentworth fellow is trying to ruin my honey business?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, that seems to be the case,” said Grandfather. “Only we need some proof.”

Henry, who had been thinking quietly, spoke up. “I think I've got a plan.”

“You do?” asked Jessie. “And what would that be?”

Henry smiled, then told them.

The Aldens, the Shermans, and Renee drove to the little hotel in town where John Price was staying for the night.

Mr. Price was wearing dark pants and a white shirt when he opened the door, but he'd taken off his jacket, tie, and shoes. The TV was on, and a newspaper lay open on the bed. Mr. Price looked as though he hadn't been expecting any visitors but got a whole load of them instead.

“Can I, uh … help you?” he asked.

The Shermans stepped forward. “Hello again, John,” Mr. Sherman said.

Mr. Price wanted to smile, but he was still too puzzled. “Hi, Clay. What's this all about?”

“Can we come in for a few minutes?” Mr. Sherman asked.

“Sure, if there's room. Maybe I should move the bed into the parking lot,” Mr. Price joked.

“I don't think that'll be necessary,” said Mr. Sherman with a weak smile.

Once everyone was settled — the adults in chairs and the Alden children sitting cross-legged on the big bed — and all the introductions had been made, Mr. Price said, “So, what's going on?”

“You've been in contact with a man named Wentworth, is that correct?” Henry asked.

“Well, yes, in fact I have.” Mr. Price nodded toward the Shermans. “He'll be taking over the Shermans' honey contract, unless they can come up with enough before the delivery date.”

“Mr. Wentworth isn't who he seems,” Jessie said.

Mr. Price's eyebrows rose. “What do you mean? He assured me he could supply the honey I needed. Had pictures of his hives and everything. Even invited me to come look at them next week.”

“In New Jersey, right?” Henry asked.

John Price looked a little stunned. “Well … yes. How'd you know that?”

Henry told Mr. Price everything that had been happening over the last few days, with Renee adding some scientific details about the Menadrin. As Henry went deeper into the story, Mr. Price looked more and more shocked.

When Henry was finished, Mr. Price said, “I … I can't believe this. Would someone really go to all that trouble, just to get this contract?”

“When you've lost as much money as he has,” Grandfather Alden said, “you probably get desperate. I'm sure he knows what he's doing is wrong, but he's probably gone beyond the point of caring.”

Mr. Price looked at the Shermans. “I'm really sorry about this. I assure you I won't be giving that contract to Tyler Wentworth.”

“Well … we're not
positive
it's him,” Violet said cautiously.

“No, that's why we came over here,” Jessie added.

“Who else could it be?” Mr. Price said, holding up his hands. “It all fits so perfectly. But how are you going to get this proof you need?” he asked the children. “If he's the one, he's not just going to say, ‘You're right, it was me!'”

“Henry has a plan,” Clay Sherman said, “and from the sound of it, it's a darn good one.”

Mr. Price turned to the boy. “Is that right? Let's hear it.”

So Henry told him everything from beginning to end. When he was finished, Mr. Price said, “That sounds like it just might work.”

“It should,” Henry agreed, “but we'll really need your help. That's key. How about it?”

John Price thought it over for a moment, then smiled. “Sure. I've never caught a criminal before.”

“Then this'll be your big chance,” Jessie told him.

The Aldens returned to Mr. Price's hotel early the next morning, along with their grandfather, and went over phase one of Henry's plan.

“Sounds good,” said Mr. Price. “Are you ready?” he asked the children.

“Ready,” said Benny.

Mr. Price picked up the hotel phone and pressed the speakerphone button so the Aldens could listen in. Then he dialed the number on Tyler Wentworth's business card. Wentworth picked it up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Wentworth? John Price here. We spoke over breakfast yesterday morning.”

“John! How are you doing this morning, my friend?”

“I'm fine, Tyler, just fine. Hey, listen, I've got some bad news for you, I'm afraid.” Mr. Price looked at the Aldens and winked.

“Bad news? What might that be?”

“Well, I don't know how, but the bees on the Shermans' farm have started making honey again. Remember when I called before and said you could have the contract because their bees had stopped? Well, I just got off the phone with Mrs. Sherman, and she said everything was going fine again.”

Mr. Price waited for Tyler Wentworth to say something, but there was only silence.

“Tyler? You still there?”

“Huh? Oh, um … yeah, sure, I'm still here.” He gave a small laugh, but there wasn't any humor in it. “Well, that's great, John. Just great. I'm glad to hear it, I'm glad for them. What was happening over there was just terrible. Good for them, really.”

“I just wanted you to know right away,” Mr. Price went on. “No hard feelings, I hope? They've been my honey people for a long time, and I believe in loyalty. It's only fair.”