The Firehouse Mystery

  “Is that the only problem?” asked Jessie.

  “There’s also this old garage,” Mike went on. “It was the right size back when they used a horse-drawn pumper.”

  “A horse-drawn pumper!” cried Benny.

  “Yes,” Mike explained. “Before gas-powered engines were invented, the pumps were pulled by horses.”

  “Prince and Duke,” said Steve, who had just joined them. “The horses’ names are painted on the wall over there. The pumper was on this side of the garage, and the horses were kept in a stable on that side. See the trapdoor in the ceiling?”

  The Aldens looked up and nodded.

  “The horses’ hay was kept up there,” Steve explained. “When the fire alarm rang, the firefighters backed the horses up to the pumpers. Then the harnesses were lowered from the ceiling. You can still see where the harnesses were kept up above.”

  “The problem now is that these garages aren’t big enough for the huge modern fire trucks,” Mike said. “We have to have trucks specially designed to fit, and that’s expensive. The town council would rather tear this old garage down and build a new larger one.”

  “Why can’t they keep this one and build another one somewhere else?” asked Henry.

  “Well, we’ve thought of that, but it would cost too much — we’d have to buy a new piece of land,” said Mike.

  “But this building has so much history!” Jessie exclaimed. “They can’t tear it down!”

  “I’m afraid they will,” said Mike. “And if it goes, I’m going with it.”

  “Mike!” said Grandfather. “After all your years on the force?”

  “Maybe I’m getting too old, just like this building,” Mike said sadly.

  “There must be some way we can change their minds,” said Henry.

  “I don’t think so,” said Mike. “Ms. Lerner has already hired an architect to come up with plans for a new firehouse, and then the council will vote on it. She says this place is an eyesore, inside and out.”

  “An eyesore!” cried Violet. Then she looked around at the peeling paint and dusty lockers. “You know, I bet we could do something. At least we could fix the place up a little.”

  “Yeah. After all, we’ve fixed up an old library, an old motel, and even an old castle,” said Benny.

  Jessie, who loved to make plans, was already thinking. “A little cleaning and some fresh paint would make a big difference.”

  “I’m sure the firefighters would be glad to help,” said Mike.

  “I bet a lot of people in this neighborhood would be sad to see this historic building torn down,” Henry pointed out. “We could pass around a petition to save the firehouse and get lots of people to sign it. That might change the town council’s mind.”

  “We could even hold a Save the Firehouse Rally!” said Jessie excitedly.

  “You know, it just might work,” said Mike.

  “That’s my grandchildren” Mr. Alden said proudly.

  The Aldens went with Mike into his office. In no time they had come up with several ideas to improve the way the firehouse looked. The rally was scheduled for the following weekend, out in front. The Aldens would make a big banner saying SAVE THE FIREHOUSE, and Mike would speak to the crowd. The children would work to fix up the firehouse as much as they could before the rally. The firefighters would help them.

  As they left Mike’s office, Henry turned around. “How long do we have until the town council votes?” he asked.

  “Only two weeks,” said Mike.

  “Then we’d better get going!” said Jessie.

  The next morning the children rode their bicycles to the firehouse, wearing their painting clothes. They had borrowed some of Grandfather’s old shirts to wear as smocks. They were going to start painting the inside of the firehouse and garage.

  “Hello,” Mike greeted the Aldens, leading them to the garage, where several cans of white paint were lined up beside a couple of flat paint trays. “These were left from the last time the firehouse was painted,” he explained. “Obviously, that was much too long ago.”

  Beside the paint cans were a bucket of paint rollers, a roll of masking tape, a ladder, and a stack of old newspapers. “Christine moved the trucks out so you can start in the garage. I’ll send some firefighters down to help. Let me know if you need anything else,” Mike said, going back into the firehouse.

  “First we have to put down the newspapers,” Henry said, “so we don’t drip paint all over.” The children covered the floor with newspapers and then put masking tape around the doorknobs and light switches so they wouldn’t get paint on them. Then they started painting, rolling swaths of clean white paint over the dirty gray-tinged walls. Benny and Violet did the lowest sections of the wall and Jessie took care of the middle. Henry climbed up on the ladder to reach the top.

  “It looks better already,” Jessie said, when the wall was halfway done.

  “Trying to fix up this old place?” a voice behind her asked. “It’s going to take a lot more than paint.” Jessie turned around to see a short bald man carrying a small blue notebook with a gold symbol on the front. “Hi, I’m Ralph Frederick,” he said, putting out his hand to shake hers. “I’m writing a book about the historic buildings in Greenfield and I’ve come to take a look at this one,” he explained, a broad smile on his face. “Could you take me to the person in charge? Unless that’s you,” he added, a twinkle in his eye.

  “No,” Jessie said with a laugh. “I’m just helping out, along with my sister and brothers.” Mr. Frederick smiled at each of the children. “I’ll take you to see the fire chief. His name is Mike Reynolds,” Jessie said.

  She carefully put down her paint roller, then led the way inside. She stopped in front of Mike’s office door. “Here’s his office, Mr. Frederick.”

  “Thank you,” he replied. “But please, call me Ralph.”

  “Okay, um, Ralph,” Jessie said. “I’ll buy a copy of your book when it comes out.” She turned to go back to the garage.

  “Thanks again,” Ralph called after her.

  By noon the Aldens had almost finished painting one side of the garage. Steve, who had been working in his office, came outside. “Aren’t you kids getting hungry?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Henry said. “How about if we take a break for lunch?”

  “I thought you’d never say that,” said Benny, grabbing the big brown lunch bag they had brought with them.

  “You can eat with me in the kitchen,” Steve suggested.

  Inside, Mike was sitting at the large kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee, and Sparky lay at his feet. “How’s it going?” Mike asked as the children washed their paint-speckled hands carefully in the sink.

  “We’re about halfway done,” Henry said, taking a seat at the table beside Steve.

  Jessie set the lunch bag up on the table and pulled out four cream cheese and jelly sandwiches, which she passed around. Then she pulled out a thermos of juice and a stack of plastic cups. Violet poured four cups of juice and handed them around.

  “Mike, what happened with Mr. Frederick?” Jessie asked.

  “Who?” Mike asked.

  “That man who was writing the book about historic buildings,” she said.

  Mike’s face looked blank. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he said.

  “I brought him to your office this morning,” Jessie said. “He wanted to speak with you because he’s writing a book about historic buildings.”

  “I never spoke to him,” Mike said. “Never even saw him.”

  “Weren’t you in your office?” Jessie asked, confused.

  “Yes, all morning. But no one came by,” said Mike.

  “I don’t understand,” said Jessie. “I left him right outside your door.”

  “I wonder why he didn’t go in,” said Henry. “You know, something about him did seem a little strange.”

  “Is this a mystery?” Benny asked hopefully.

  “No, Benny.” Jessie gave Henry a loo
k. “I thought Mr. Frederick seemed very nice and polite.”

  “You know,” Mike said, “I was on the phone for a while. He probably knocked and I just didn’t hear him.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” Jessie agreed.

  “Aw, nuts,” said Benny. “I was hoping it was a mystery!”

  “Well, Benny. There is one mystery. We still haven’t figured out who’s been calling in the false alarms,” said Steve. “And there was another one last night!”

  CHAPTER 4

  Not Just a Bunch of Old Junk

  As the children were finishing up their lunch, Sparky began barking. A moment later, the door opened and Ms. Lerner walked in. With her was a smaller, young woman who had short blond hair and a cheerful smile. She was carrying a large sketch pad and pencil.

  “Hello, Mike,” Ms. Lerner said. “This is Rebecca Wright, the architect I told you about yesterday. Do you have a minute to show her around?”

  Mike sighed. He didn’t seem happy to see Ms. Lerner again.

  “I could show them around, if you’re too busy,” Henry suggested.

  “That’s very nice of you,” Mike said. He introduced the Aldens to the two women. “Let me know if you need me.”

  While Jessie, Violet, and Benny went back to the garage to continue painting, Henry gave the two women the same tour he’d had the day before.

  “See what awful condition this place is in, Rebecca?” Ms. Lerner said to the architect.

  “Oh, yes,” she agreed. Every now and then she would pause and make some quick notes on her pad.

  “It really just needs some fresh paint and a little tidying up,” Henry said. “Don’t you think so, Ms. Wright?”

  “You can call me Rebecca,” she said, smiling. “That would help, I guess — ”

  “But we’d still need a new firehouse,” insisted Ms. Lerner, frowning at Henry.

  As they passed the shelves that held the silver trophies, Ms. Lerner stopped abruptly. “Look at these,” she said, carefully picking up a dusty silver trophy. She read the engraved inscription on the front. “This one is from 1865! These must be very valuable.”

  “Really? It just looks like a bunch of old junk.” Rebecca picked up one of the old speaking trumpets and turned it over in her hands. She frowned a little and then stared at the speaking trumpet for a long time.

  “I know a lot about antiques,” Ms. Lerner said, studying the shelf of trophies. “Well, shall we go upstairs?”

  Rebecca was still holding the speaking trumpet. “Oh, uh, yes,” she said, startled out of her thoughts. She gently set the dusty trumpet back on the shelf.

  When the tour was over, Henry went back to the garage. He was pleased at how clean and white the walls looked.

  “We’re almost done,” Jessie called. She had taken Henry’s place on top of the ladder while he was gone. “How was the tour?”

  “It was okay, I guess,” Henry said.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Violet.

  “I just wonder if we’ll be able to save this old place. Ms. Lerner seems determined to have it torn down,” Henry said.

  “That just means we’ll have to work twice as hard,” said Benny.

  “Is there something else bothering you?” Violet asked her older brother.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Henry began. “But when I showed them the silver trophies, Rebecca and Ms. Lerner just stood there and stared at them for a very long time.”

  “So? Those trophies are really neat,” said Jessie. “They probably just wanted to look at them. I think you and Benny are both looking for a mystery where there isn’t one. Like Mr. Frederick — you kept saying there was something strange about him, but I thought he was nice.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Henry said, picking up a paint roller.

  Soon, with the help of a few firefighters, the Aldens had painted the whole garage. Everyone was worn out.

  “It looks great!” Jessie said, sitting down to survey their work.

  “Don’t sit down yet,” said Henry. “I noticed the sign by the door needs to be repainted.”

  The rest of the Aldens followed him around to the front, where they all helped to touch up the sign that read GREENFIELD FIRE DEPARTMENT. In no time it sparkled with fresh paint.

  “I’m going to repaint those old window boxes,” said Violet, heading over to the large windows on the side of the firehouse. The paint there was cracked and peeling. The boxes looked much better when Violet had finished with them, but still she wasn’t satisfied. “I wish it weren’t so cold out. These window boxes would be cheerier if they had flowers in them.”

  “How about if we get some evergreen boughs like the ones we had in the house during the holidays?” suggested Jessie. “We could put them in the window boxes. That would brighten things up out here. Remember how nice they made the town square look for the Winter Festival?”

  “Yes! What a good idea,” Henry agreed. “We’ll get some tomorrow.”

  The children returned to the garage to clean up. Violet cleaned the rollers and Henry put the newspapers in the recycling bin. Jessie folded up the ladder. Then she helped put the cans of leftover paint beside the door that led into the firehouse. They’d continue painting inside the next day.

  Steve came out to see how the children were doing. “The garage looks like new,” he said.

  Benny was just putting the lids on the leftover cans of paint when the fire alarm rang. Several firefighters ran out and started pulling on their gear.

  “A kitchen fire on Chester Road,” Christine told the children as she pulled on her coat.

  “I wish we could go help,” said Benny.

  Steve smiled. “Maybe when you’re older.”

  The children watched the firefighters getting into the trucks, which had been parked on the street while the garage was being painted.

  “Why not now?” Benny asked.

  “Fires are dangerous, Benny. It wouldn’t be safe and we might be in the way,” Jessie explained gently.

  “Couldn’t we just watch?” Benny said, refusing to give up.

  Steve looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I think you could. I’ll take you there in my car. We’ll stay out of the way. Come on!”

  The children ran to Steve’s car, which was parked just behind the fire trucks. They were amazed at how quickly he was able to move himself from his wheelchair to the car, fold up the wheelchair, and put it in the backseat. The Aldens were ready to help, but Steve obviously didn’t need it. The children climbed into the car just as the fire trucks were roaring off.

  As Steve and the Aldens took off after them, Henry, who was sitting in the front seat, noticed something unusual about the car. “There are no pedals!” he said.

  “Since I can’t use my feet, I control the speed of the car and the brakes with my hands,” Steve said.

  “That’s really neat,” said Jessie from the backseat.

  Chester Road was only a few blocks away from the firehouse. Steve stopped the car some distance from the fire trucks, which had pulled up in front of a small yellow house. On the lawn were a man, a woman, and a small child. The Aldens realized this must be the family that lived there.

  “I don’t see any smoke or fire,” said Benny.

  “That’s good,” Steve said. “It may already be under control.”

  Mike ran over and spoke briefly to the man and woman on the lawn. Then he directed a couple of the firefighters into the house.

  “Shawn and Tom are going inside to check how bad the fire is,” Steve told the children.

  Meanwhile, Christine climbed up into the back of the pumper. “She’ll control how much water goes through the hoses by using the knobs and dials up there,” Steve explained.

  A firefighter was hooking up two hoses to the pumper. Another firefighter attached the loose end of one of the hoses to a nearby hydrant.

  A few minutes later Shawn and Tom emerged from the house and stopped to speak to Mike and the family. The man and woman looke
d relieved.

  Then the firefighters went back to the trucks, and Mike began calling directions out to them. “The fire’s out. There’s just a lot of smoke inside. Christine, you and Stuart can go on back to the station. Shawn and Tom, get the fans.”

  “What are the fans for?” asked Violet.

  “They’re to blow the smoke out of the house,” Steve answered.

  The Aldens watched as Christine and Stuart disconnected the hoses and put them away inside the truck. Meanwhile, Shawn and Tom got a large fan out of the ladder truck and carried it inside.

  “They didn’t get to use all the hoses and everything,” Benny said as Steve headed the car back to the firehouse.

  “We never know how bad a fire is going to be, so we have to be prepared,” said Steve. “Fortunately, today it wasn’t too bad.”

  When the Aldens arrived back at the firehouse, they got their bicycles and got ready to go home.

  “This has been a long day!” said Violet.

  “Yeah, and I’m starving,” added Benny. “Remember Mrs. McGregor said she was making chili for dinner tonight?”

  “I’d hurry home, then, if I were you,” said Steve with a laugh. “Chili is one of my favorite dinners, and I haven’t had any in a long time.”

  “Really?” asked Jessie. “We’re pretty good at making it, too — Mrs. McGregor showed us how. Maybe tomorrow we could make some for you and the other firefighters.”

  “I’m off duty tomorrow, but how about the next night?” suggested Steve. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “It would be our pleasure,” said Henry.

  And with that the children hurried home. They couldn’t wait to tell Grandfather and Mrs. McGregor, Grandfather’s housekeeper, about their exciting day.

  The next morning the Aldens rode back to the firehouse, eager to get to work. When they got there, Mike was out in front with Sparky. Mike looked very unhappy.

  “What’s wrong?” Jessie asked.

  “Come take a look,” he said, leading the way into the garage.