Watson's Case (11 page)

Ghosts and Cider

Wh
en Rollie arrived at 221 Baker Street Sunday evening, he found Cecily waiting for him just inside the front door. As soon as he walked in from the cold, she started babbling away about her weekend.

“I might stay every weekend!” she squealed. “We had so much fun yesterday! Mr. Chad took us to the zoo in Regent's Park, and—”

“What about the mole? Anything happen?”

“Oh! So far no one's been in the secret passage. Do you think the mole will ever find it?”

“I hope so just so we'll have a lead on who it is.” Rollie pulled out a small cream-colored envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “An invitation to my birthday party.”

Cecily took it and giggled. “Your family's finally acknowledging your birthday?”

“Funny. Tell me more about yesterday.”

“Rupert was really strange.”

“He always is. What did he do?” Rollie asked as they mounted the stairs.

“He met someone in Regent's Park near Queen's Gardens.”

“Again?” Rollie exclaimed. “He met someone in the park last weekend, too. Did you get a good look at the stranger? I didn't.”

“Of course I did, and I took some notes. He was a young man of medium height. He looked very common except for a scar on his cheek. He wore a black coat and black cap. They whispered to each other, and right before the man turned to leave, he patted Rupert on the back.”

“Sounds like the same stranger I saw. Did he by any chance look like Herr Zilch? Remember he's good at disguises. Was the man wearing gloves?”

Cecily shook her head of auburn curls. “No, it wasn't him, I'm sure of it.”

“The man could work for Herr Zilch. Anything else?”

“Rupert wasn't around much. I still have my own suspicions about someone else, but I need evidence.” Cecily frowned, and then asked excitedly, “Did Auntie Ei give you any tips on the case?”

“None! She wasn't home. She left on important business.”

“That's odd! She said she'd see you this weekend. What important business?”

“My parents didn't know. I should have stayed here.”

“Oh well. Hey, the weekend isn't completely over. Mr. Chad and Lady Gram are hosting a small Halloween bonfire on the roof in a few minutes. We get to drink hot apple cider and tell ghost stories. It should be fun.”

“I'm glad I came back in time.”

“Do you want your map back?” Cecily darted into her bedroom, and soon returned with the old newspaper neatly folded. She handed it to him. “Margot needs to borrow one of my scarves. I'll meet you on the roof.”

Rollie left Cecily on her floor and continued upstairs to the fourth floor. He sauntered into his dorm room where he found Eliot trying to zip up a second puffy jacket.

“What are you doing here? I thought you went home,” Eliot greeted, yanking up the zipper.

“I came back early. Are you going to the bonfire?”

“Of course, why else do you think I've got two jackets, two scarves, and two pairs of socks on for?”

“I figured you had a good reason,” Rollie responded to humor him. “Here.” He held out an invitation to his roommate.

Eliot grabbed it, and struggled to bring his hands together to open it. He managed to tear the envelope open. His eyes scanned the card, and he smiled. “It's about time you invited me to your house. Do you realize we've been friends for two and three-quarter months now and I've never met your family? I'll like them, I'm sure. I'll be there.”

“Great!” Rollie turned to head upstairs.

“You better wear more layers because if you get sick I'm not—”

“I won't get sick.”

“It's really cold! You're not wearing enough layers,” said Eliot, waddling to the door.

“Fine, I'll put on my cap. I think my mum packed it.” Rollie heaved his suitcase onto his bed.

“I suppose that will do.” Eliot tried to shrug, but could not move much in his layers. His arms stuck out from his body and he waddled stiffly.

Rollie opened his suitcase and shrieked.

“By heck! What in the . . .” Eliot jumped.

Rollie stared down in shock at the contents of his suitcase. Instead of his trousers, sweaters, blue-striped pajamas, red knit cap, and other such clothing, his suitcase was full of ivory articles of clothing with lace trimmings and satin fabric. He recoiled from the suitcase, taking several steps back.

Eliot's face wore a horrified expression. “What is
that
?”

Rollie swallowed. “I—I think my mum mixed up the laundry again.”

Just then Rupert entered the room. He looked first at Eliot's face screwed up in disgust, then at Rollie's face pale with dread. He followed their gazes to Rollie's open suitcase. He arched an eyebrow, and a devilish grin formed on his round face.

“Is that what I think it is?” he chortled.

“His mum mixed up his laundry—it's not his,” Eliot rattled.

“Really! Whose is it then?” asked Rupert, crossing his arms.

“My great-aunt's,” said Rollie in small voice.

Rupert doubled over in laughter. “You have old lady underwear!”

Rollie slammed the suitcase shut and shoved it under his bed. He stormed out of his dorm room as his face turned a deep shade of scarlet. At the door that opened onto the roof he stopped to compose himself. He took a few deep breaths, and then opened the door.

The rooftop glowed orange from a good-sized bonfire blazing in the center. The light threw off ghostly shadows that danced against the perimeter tarps. A few jack-o-lanterns lent extra light. Mr. Chad, dressed in his black pea coat and blue jeans, offered students sitting on park benches near the fire some candy corn. Miss Gram, cozy in a red coat and matching mittens, passed out mugs of steaming hot cider topped with whipped cream and cinnamon.

“Rollie!” Wesley heralded, waving from a bench near the fire. “I didn't know you were coming back early.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Mr. Chad greeted next. “You're just in time for my favorite Halloween tradition, ghost stories!”

“They're not too scary, right?” Eliot asked worriedly as he joined them.

“I can't promise anything.” With a wink, Mr. Chad popped candy corn in his mouth.

“There's room here,” Wesley offered, scooting down the bench for his friends. “How come you came back tonight?”

Rollie hesitated before answering, his stomach fluttering lightly with guilt at having to skew the truth for his friend. “My family was busy and I needed to finish some extra work.”

“I'm glad you're here. I was a little bored this weekend.”

Rollie tapped Wesley's arm with an invitation.

Wesley tore open the envelope, read the card, and grinned. “Count me in.”

“You and Eliot can stay the whole weekend since the party's on Saturday.”

“Where are we going to sleep?” Eliot questioned.

“We can camp out in the parlor or the library,” Rollie suggested. “My brothers have sleeping bags you can use.”

“That would be fun,” agreed Wesley.

“I suppose I could sleep like that,” Eliot said thoughtfully.

Cecily and her roommates found them. “Can we sit with you?”

“This is the boys' bench,” Eliot told her.

“I don't see a label,” Cecily countered.

“Don't be stingy,” Tibby added.

“There's plenty of room,” Margot pointed out.

Wesley scooted to the end of the bench, and beckoned Rollie and Eliot to follow suit. The girls squeezed in on the other end.

“Do you fancy hot cider, boys and girls?” Miss Gram chimed.

The children nodded eagerly. Their teacher handed them each a mug. She smiled and flitted over to Mr. Chad.

“Chadwick, we should begin before it gets too late,” she cooed as she settled onto a bench and wrapped a plaid blanket around her lap and legs.

Mr. Chad cleared his throat with a tinge of embarrassment toward Miss Gram and announced, “Welcome to an American camp site! Back home my family and I love to sit around a campfire on a brisk fall evening and tell ghost stories. Tonight anyone can tell a story. Gwen, would you like to tell the first story?”

She daintily sipped her hot cider. “I suppose so. Let me see . . .”

Miss Gram proceeded to tell a tale about a princess who got lost in a haunted wood and was rescued by a handsome prince. Her tale was not the least bit scary, but it managed to enchant the girls and repulse the boys.

“Who's next?” Mr. Chad called.

“I've got one,” Wesley spoke up.

“Go for it, Wes,” Mr. Chad said as he munched on candy corn and offered the bag to Miss Gram.

“One stormy night, a brother and sister headed home from a friend's party. They lived a few blocks down from their friend, so they decided to walk home. As they walked, they sensed someone following them. When they turned around, they were horrified to see a huge shadowy figure with blood-shot eyes and mangled teeth. They screamed and ran. They were relieved when their parents' car pulled up beside them. They crammed into the back seat and slammed the door shut. ‘Go!' the brother yelled. ‘We saw a horrible specter following us!' said the sister. ‘He had blood-shot eyes and mangled teeth,' the brother said. The driver turned around and stared at them with blood-shot eyes and grinned with mangled teeth. ‘Like me?' he croaked.”

Silence ensued until someone in the group whispered, “Crikey.”

“That was spooky!”

“Best story yet!”

“Nice!” Mr. Chad approved. “Anyone else?”

“Me.”

To everyone's surprise, Rupert stepped into the firelight. He started to tell a tale about a haunted suitcase, how its contents came to life and strangled its owner to death.

Rupert ended the tale by saying, “That story was inspired by true events.” He looked pointedly at Rollie.

Rollie felt his temper rising.

“Although the clothes I'm thinking of didn't come to life,” continued Rupert. “But they could be haunted. What do you think, Rollie?”

All eyes turned to Rollie who squirmed in his seat and glared at Rupert.

Rupert sneered. “Yeah, right now Rollie's suitcase is full of old lady underwear!”

Rollie barely heard a few titters of laughter as he bolted up and lunged at Rupert. He grabbed the pudgy boy around the middle, and tackled him to the ground.

“Whoa! Hold on there!” Mr. Chad jumped in and tried to pull the boys apart. He grabbed Rupert while Wesley held back Rollie.

Rollie panted, still glaring at Rupert. In return, Rupert narrowed his eyes.

“So, that was a first!” Mr. Chad declared. “Didn't see that coming, especially from you, Rollie. Do we need a little trip to the headmaster?”

Rollie shook his head. “No, sorry, it won't happen again. I don't want to see Headmaster.”

Rupert shook his head as well.

“Fine then. You guys gonna behave or do we end the night right now?” asked Mr. Chad, turning to each boy at a time.

“I'll behave,” muttered Rollie as he took his seat on the bench, eyes cast down.

Without another word, Rupert skulked back into the Academy.

“Geez, boys,” Mr. Chad shook his head. “We've got time for one more, so I'm gonna tell it. I think it might be the strangest, most haunting story ever. Brace yourselves. This story takes place on the eerie English moors and it involves hounds and fire and—”

“
Hound of the Baskervilles
!” the children cried, and a few clapped excitedly.

“One of Sherlock Holmes' most famous and bizarre cases. I guess I don't need to retell it.”

“Tell it!”

“Please!”

“Let's hear it!”

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Chad chuckled. “All great stories start with . . .”

“Once upon a time!” Eliot blurted with self-satisfaction.

“No, no, no, Tildster. Fairytales start that way. Great stories—especially mysteries—start with . . .
It was a dark and stormy night . . .
”

The children listened, captivated by Mr. Chad's animated retelling of Holmes' mysterious case in which a fire-breathing hound haunted the moors. Holmes hid out in a prehistoric hovel on the moors in order to investigate. Only after baiting the devilish dog did Holmes uncover the truth.

When the story ended, the children applauded and helped tidy the roof. They stacked their mugs on the dish rack and dragged the benches back in place at the tables. Miss Gram ushered the girls indoors while the boys stayed to help Mr. Chad extinguish the bonfire. By now it had nearly died, only embers glowing in the center. Mr. Chad poured a pitcher of water onto the fire while Eliot and two other boys stamped out a few rogue flickers.

“Help me clean up, guys,” Mr. Chad called. “Let's hope the janitors come back soon.”

Wesley grabbed a charred twig from the rubbish. “En garde!” He posed into a fencing stance.