The Case of the Crooked Carnival (4 page)

Paid in full.

N
ell was just tossing a couple of
Bert’s Best Bug Bon-Bons
to her lizards when the phone rang.

“Doyle and Fossey,” she answered.

“WHAT?” hollered a voice amid lots of background noise. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

And Nell, understanding that a customer was in desperate need of proper communication, shouted, “DOYLE AND FOSSEY!!!”

“OH, NELL, THANK GOODNESS YOU’RE THERE! IT’S ME—JUNE JEWELL. I COULD REALLY USE YOUR HELP!”

June Jewell was in Drake and Nell’s class at school. June was a nice girl, although, sadly, her life was not always easy. As everyone knew, June’s large family struggled to make ends meet, as many large families often do. Sometimes June came to class without any mittens, or with shoes that weren’t her size or perhaps with a rock for show-and-tell.

“OF COURSE, MS. JEWELL. ‘HELP’ IS OUR MIDDLE NAME.”

“
WHAT’S
YOUR MIDDLE NAME?”

“NEVER MIND. WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE PROBLEM?” Already the case was proving to be quite difficult. But Nell was up to the challenge. She whipped her pencil from behind her ear.

“I’M AT THE CARNIVAL,” shouted June.

Every year the carnival came to town. Kids from all over flocked there to win prizes, ride rides, and eat themselves silly.

“DID YOU EAT YOURSELF SILLY, MS. JEWELL? ARE YOU SICK? DO YOU REQUIRE EMERGENCY MEASURES?”

“WELL, I’M HEARTSICK. DOES THAT COUNT?”

Heartsick! Nell was so dismayed she almost fell off her chair. Being sick at heart (sad, lonely, forlorn, weepy, forsaken, miserable, low …) was far, far worse than a tummy-ache. It lasted far longer and hurt just as much, maybe worse.

“MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS ARE, TOO!”

Now Nell
did
fall off her chair. This was heartsickness times twelve, for June had eleven brothers and sisters. “YOU—YOU MEAN—”

“THAT’S RIGHT. JOE, JAY, JOY, JOAN, JOHN, JEAN, JANE, JENN, JEB, JED, AND LITTLE JUDD JUNIOR, TOO.”

“WE’LL BE RIGHT THERE. LIKE I SAID, ‘HELP’ IS OUR MIDDLE NAME!”

“
WHAT’S
YOUR MIDDLE NAME?”

“OH—NEVER MIND. JUST TELL US WHERE TO MEET YOU….”

Nell hung up and called Drake. “CARNIVAL ENTRANCE ASAP!”

“CHECK! UH—NELL, WHY ARE WE YELLING?”

“Oh, sorry.”

“No harm done.”

“Carnival. Ten minutes and counting.”

“Check.”

Click.

The smell of corn dogs and cotton candy filled the air. There were balloons and merry-go-rounds and bumper cars, laughter and music. “You see, it’s like this,” June explained once Drake and Nell entered the carnival. “Grams and Gramps came to visit us and gave me—I—I mean gave
each of us
—five dollars.”

Drake whipped out his notebook. “Let’s see, five times twelve …”

“Where are your brothers and sisters?” asked Nell.

“They’re over at Shady Jim’s booth. He’s giving away a free, all-expenses paid trip for the whole family to Magic Valley’s Fabulous Fun-O-Rama if anyone can win his game. The only problem is—”

“Yes?” Drake and Nell said together.

“We keep losing.” June pulled two very crumpled dollar bills from her pocket.

“This is all we have left.”

“Great Scott!” cried Drake. “According to my calculations, that’s a loss of fifty-eight dollars!”

“That’s why I’m so heartsick,” said June. “We’ve never taken a vacation. There are just too many of us. The farthest I’ve ever been from home is, uh—well, right here at the carnival.”

“I see,” said Nell. “Well, much as we want to help your family go on a nice vacation, I’m afraid we can’t help you win. That would be cheating—”

And all might have ended right there, had June not grabbed Nell’s sleeve and begged, “But Shady Jim wins every time! It looks so
easy
when he does it. That’s why I called you.”

“Hmm,” said Nell. “Sounds suspicious.”

“Suspicious indeed,” said Drake, pushing up his glasses. “Let’s check it out. Ms. Jewell, lead the way, if you please.”

Soon they reached Shady Jim’s booth, surrounded by a crowd of children, including Joe, Jay, Joy, Joan, John, Jean, Jane, Jenn, Jeb, Jed, and little Judd Junior, all of whom looked terribly sad. “STEP RIGHT UP,” Shady Jim hollered, “don’t be shy! Winning this game’s as easy as pie!”

And to show just how easy the game was to win, Shady Jim demonstrated. “Ever play air hockey, kiddos? It’s kind of like that. Stand at one end of the alley, and aim for the target at the other end.” And while everyone watched, Shady Jim aimed the puck, and gave it a push. The puck sailed across the smooth surface until it stopped dead center in the bull’s-eye.

“Oooh, aaaah!” exclaimed the crowd.

And for good measure, Shady Jim did the same thing again and again and again and
again.
(He even did it blindfolded, and once while doing jumping jacks, and backwards. Scientifically speaking, it was amazing.) “See, kiddos? What’d I tell you?” gloated Shady Jim. “Easy as pie. Keep winning and you keep playing. Hit the bull’s-eye five times in a row, and your family will win a one-week trip to Magic Valley’s Fabulous Fun-O-Rama, all expenses paid. Now who’s it gonna be? Step right up and try your luck!”

Money was flying everywhere, so fast Shady Jim could hardly stuff his pockets quickly enough. And, while Drake, Nell, and June watched, kid after kid played the game. A few made the bull’seye. Most didn’t. And those who did happen to land the puck into the target rarely did it twice in a row. Certainly not three times in a row. Four times was out of the question. And five times seemed quite impossible indeed.

“Too bad, kid,” Shady Jim would say. “NEXT!”

“Hmm,” said Nell, punching the numbers into her calculator. “Something’s not adding up.”

“See?” said June, her lip quivering. “It’s hopeless. How can I possibly win? Mom, Dad, Joe, Jay, Joy, Joan, John, Jean, Jane, Jenn, Jeb, Jed, and little Judd Junior will be so disappointed.”

And as June pulled out an old cloth and dabbed her eyes, there arose a rumpus around the booth.

“We have a WINNER!” Shady Jim hollered.

J
une gasped.

Drake broke the lead in his pencil.

Nell hit the wrong calculator button.

“It’s Baloney!” they all cried. “He won!”

(Now, in case you didn’t know, Baloney’s real name was Bubba Mahoney, but when he was a toddler he ate seven and a half packages of baloney in one sitting, and so then everyone called him Baloney. It made sense.) Baloney was the biggest kid in the fifth grade, good for stomping aluminum pop cans, driving in nails with his fists, and sitting on things if he felt they needed squishing.

Baloney danced about. “I won! I won!”

Shady Jim grinned. “See, kids? If Baloney can win,
anyone
can win!”

“Egads!” gasped Drake. “If Baloney’s here—”

“—that means Frisco can’t be far!” cried Nell.

You see, Baloney and James Frisco, the
bad
mad scientist, were partners. If Frisco needed anything squished, Baloney was his man. If Baloney needed anything blown up, Frisco was his man.

“Do you suppose Frisco, Baloney, and Shady Jim are all in it together?” asked Drake.

June gasped. “But that would be cheating!”

“Cheating indeed, Ms. Jewell,” agreed Nell. “But it’s all we’ve got to go on right now.”

“Great Scott!” cried Drake, ducking behind June. “Don’t look now. To your left. By the corn dogs. Under the tree. James Frisco! The very man!”

Sure enough, there was James Frisco, the
bad
mad scientist. He gazed at the sky, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Do you think he’s seen us?” asked Nell while, fast as a proton, she ducked behind June as well.

“Negative,” replied Drake. “His powers of observation are quite terrible, as you know.”

“This could be our big break,” said Nell.

“We must spring into action,” said Drake.

They opened their detective kits. They whipped out their magnifying glasses. They whipped out their periscopes. Their binoculars. Their insect repellent (it
was
a rather buggy day). And with June as their cover, they began to do surveillance (to stake out, observe, shadow), determined to expose Frisco, the
bad
mad scientist, at his game.

“Subject is eyeing the corn dogs,” observed Drake.

“Subject is—
eeww—
picking his nose,” observed Nell.

“Subject appears quite overheated,” observed Drake.

“A warm day to be dressed in an overcoat,” added Nell.

“Subject is whistling out of tune,” said Drake.

“Subject also putting his hand in his pocket frequently,” said Nell.

“Hmm … let me adjust my binoculars … Great Scott!” cried Drake. “You’re right, Scientist Nell. And—Great Scott times two!—there are wires coming out of his pocket!”

“Good eye, Detective Doyle. Now just where do you suppose those wires lead?”

Peering through their binoculars, they saw that the wires trailed across the ground, disappearing beneath …

Both Drake and Nell gasped and said, “Beneath Shady Jim’s booth!”

Drake, Nell, and June darted behind the back of the booth where the wires disappeared.

“Quick, Scientist Nell, my periscope!”

“Check!”

Drake slipped the periscope under the booth and peered into the scope. (In actual fact, Drake first removed a pebble that was stuck in his knee, bumped his nose against the wall of the booth—“Ow!”—and
then
slipped the periscope under the booth for a quick peek around.)

“Report?” asked Nell.

“There are many hairy legs crawling around, it’s just horrible … oh, oh, wait a minute. Bug on my periscope. Off you go … Ah, yes. That’s better. Fascinating. Quite fascinating.”

“Report?”

“One of the wires is hooked to the positive terminal of a large battery. The other wire is coiled around what looks to be an enormous nail, before being hooked to the negative terminal. Quick, Scientist Nell, hand me a paper clip.”

“Check.”

And, being the best partner a scientist could have, Nell whipped out a paper clip. (Where did she get it, you wonder? Wonder no longer, for both Drake and Nell’s detective kits were chock full of handy gadgets. You see, science detectives must be prepared for every possibility—such as desperate customers, suspicious characters, even the occasional earthquake.) But before Nell could hand the paper clip to Drake, something extraordinary happened.