The Crazy Carnival Case

  “That if I find the troublemaker, you’ll write something nice,” Nancy said.

  “Nice?” Brenda choked. “You mean, like the Ferris wheel? The bunnies in the petting zoo? The new taffy flavor?”

  Nancy nodded. “Do we have a deal?”

  “Yes, we have a deal,” Brenda said. “But only because I don’t think you’ll do it.”

  Nancy ignored what Brenda had said. She held out her hand to shake, but Brenda jumped back.

  “Yuck—eggy!” Brenda cried. Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

  “Leave it to Miss Snooty Pants to spoil the carnival,” Bess said.

  “Brenda’s not spoiling it,” Nancy said. “The carnival creep is.”

  “Let’s go back,” George said. “I see Nina coming with the clean sacks.”

  The race began again, but Nancy, Bess, and George lost to a tall girl with long legs.

  “Another panda down the drain.” George sighed.

  Nancy was sad that she didn’t win, but she was excited to start her new case.

  As she and her friends walked back toward the school building they saw Chloe Mondesky. She was carrying a bag of honey-roasted peanuts.

  “Hi, Cruncher,” the girls said.

  “Mmph,” Cruncher said through a mouthful of peanuts.

  “Check it out,” George whispered as Cruncher walked away. “She’s wearing a blue ribbon on her shirt.”

  “It’s probably from last year,” Nancy decided. “So she can remind everyone that she was once the pie-eating champ.”

  The girls sat down on a wooden bench in front of the beanbag toss.

  Nancy pulled her blue detective notebook from the pocket of her shorts. She opened to a clean page and wrote, “The Case of the Carnival Creep.”

  “Creep is right,” George said. “Who would want to make trouble at a carnival?”

  “It can’t be Jason, David, and Mike this time,” Nancy said.

  Jason Hutchings, David Berger, and Mike Minelli were the biggest troublemakers in the girls’ class. But Nancy hadn’t seen them at the carnival yet.

  “What about Brenda?” Bess asked. “Maybe she’s causing trouble so she can write about it for her newspaper.”

  Nancy shook her head. “Brenda came into the carnival the same time we did.”

  “And she would never get her hands messy with gross eggs,” George added.

  Nancy thought hard.

  “Maybe it’s someone who’s mad at the carnival,” she said. “Like Cruncher. She was really mad about those coconut pies.”

  “Or Orson,” George added. “He was steaming when Frogzilla was disqualified.”

  Nancy wrote “Cruncher” and “Orson” in her notebook. She was happy to have two suspects. But she still needed clues.

  The girls ran back to the soccer field. Nancy searched the area where the potato sacks had been stacked. She found an empty peanut bag and a paper cone from a slushy.

  “None of the contestants were eating,” Nancy said. “So these might have belonged to the carnival creep.”

  Nancy slipped the evidence between the pages of her notebook. But as the girls walked back to the booths she was puzzled.

  “The wrappers came from the carnival,” Nancy said. “But where did all those raw eggs come from?”

  Just then a loud cheer filled the air. Nancy turned and saw a crowd standing in front of a small stage. On the stage was a chicken pecking at a toy piano.

  “It’s Henrietta!” George cried.

  Nancy’s eyes opened wide. “Chickens lay eggs,” she said. “Maybe the raw eggs came from Henrietta Von Peck!”

  Nancy and her friends ran closer to the stage. They stood on their tiptoes to see over the crowd. Standing next to the stage was a short bald man. He was wearing a yellow suit and a red bowtie—chicken colors.

  “There’s Henrietta’s manager, Lou Fowler,” Nancy pointed out. “He’s here with Henrietta every year.”

  A few feet away from the stage was a striped tent. Above the tent opening was a gold star with the initials HVP.

  “That’s got to be Henrietta’s tent,” Nancy said. “Let’s check it out.”

  The girls squeezed through the crowd. While Henrietta pecked out “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” they slipped into the tent.

  The first things Nancy saw were white feathers scattered on the ground.

  “Are those Henrietta’s?” Bess asked.

  “Probably,” George said. “Unless she and Lou had a pillow fight.”

  The girls searched the tent. Nancy found a wire cage, a hot plate, frying pan, and finally—a bucket of eggs.

  “Wait!” Nancy said. “The eggshells in the sacks were white. Those eggs are brown.”

  “Buck! Buck! Buck!”

  Nancy spun around. A ruffled white chicken was flapping into the tent.

  It was Henrietta. And she looked mad!

  4

  What’s the Buzz?

  Go away!” Nancy whispered. She froze as Henrietta began pecking at her sneakers.

  “Who’s in there?” a gruff voice demanded.

  “Nobody here but us chickens!” George called back.

  The tent door parted. Lou Fowler marched in. “Aha!” he declared. “I knew somebody was in here.”

  “How did you know?” Nancy asked.

  “A little birdy told me so!” Lou said, his bowtie bobbing. “Henrietta has an ear for music—and for trouble.”

  “We weren’t making trouble, Mr. Fowler,” Nancy said. “We were just looking for Henrietta’s eggs.”

  “Buck!” Henrietta clucked.

  “Her eggs?” Lou cried. He glared at Nancy. “What are you—some kind of fox?”

  “No!” Nancy said. She didn’t want to tell Lou everything. Not until she was sure the eggs came from Henrietta.

  “We just heard that Henrietta lays such fresh eggs,” George said.

  Lou smiled. He looked proud.

  “See for yourself,” Lou said. He picked up an egg and the frying pan. “How do you like ’em—scrambled or over easy?”

  “Buuuuck!” Henrietta clucked.

  Nancy stepped back. She wanted to investigate the eggs, not eat them.

  “No thanks,” Nancy said. “But please tell us why the eggs are so brown.”

  “It’s because Henrietta is a Rhode Island Red chicken,” Lou said. “They all lay brown eggs. But don’t ask me why.”

  Nancy was disappointed. Henrietta’s eggs weren’t the ones they were looking for.

  “Thanks, Mr. Fowler,” Nancy said. “But I do have one more question.”

  “What?” Lou asked.

  “How does Henrietta know how to play all those songs?” Nancy asked.

  “How else?” Lou asked. His eyes twinkled. “She wings it!”

  The girls said goodbye to Henrietta. Then they left her tent.

  “If those chickens lay brown eggs,” Bess said, “why don’t they call them Rhode Island Browns?”

  “Who knows?” Nancy said. “But I do know one thing. The eggs in the sacks were not Henrietta’s.”

  “Then where did those eggs come from?” George asked. “It’s not like they sell cartons of raw eggs at the carnival.”

  “The troublemaker must have brought the eggs to the carnival,” Nancy decided.

  Nancy stopped to write her thoughts inside her notebook.

  “Maybe the carnival creep won’t make any more trouble,” Bess said. “Maybe he or she gave up after the potato sacks.”

  “I hope so,” Nancy said. As she shut her notebook she saw Brenda waving.

  “Oh, Detective Drew!” Brenda called. “Wait until you see what I found!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George followed Brenda to the cutout of Isabelle Santoro.

  Nancy’s mouth dropped open. A black mustache was drawn on Isabelle’s cardboard face. Her eyes were marked to look as if they were crossed.

  “Who did this?” Nancy demanded.

  “That’s your job,” Brenda said with a gri
n. “You’re the detective!”

  Then Brenda took out a camera and snapped a picture of the cutout.

  “What are you doing?” George asked.

  “It’s for my article,” Brenda replied. “I thought Isabelle might want to see what she looks like with a mustache.”

  “That’s not nice!” Nancy scolded.

  “I know,” Brenda said. “But I don’t have to write a nice article. Yet.”

  Nancy felt her cheeks burn as Brenda walked away. “Let’s catch that carnival creep,” she said. “Once and for all!”

  Nancy walked around the cutout looking for clues. She found two candy wrappers by Isabelle’s cardboard feet.

  “Those must be Cruncher’s,” George said.

  “Who else eats that much candy?”

  “We’ll show them,” a voice muttered. “We’ll show them. We’ll show them. . . .”

  Nancy saw Orson Wong walking by. Over his shoulder was Frogzilla’s carrying case. In Orson’s arms were bags of candy bars, taffy, and jelly beans.

  “Orson with loads of candy,” Nancy whispered. “And he’s a suspect, too.”

  “Orson!” George yelled. “Wait up!”

  Orson looked over his shoulder. His mouth dropped open, and he began to run.

  “Get him!” Nancy ordered.

  The girls ran after Orson. They chased him around the carnival booths and the snack stands. Then they lost him.

  “Look!” George said. She pointed to the ground. “A trail of jelly beans!”

  The girls followed the jelly bean trail to the soccer field. They found a few more jelly beans but no Orson.

  Nancy looked around and saw the caterpillar tunnel. It gave her an idea.

  “Maybe he hid in there,” Nancy said.

  Nancy, Bess, and George had to duck a bit as they walked inside the caterpillar.

  “We caught you taffy-handed, Orson!” George called out. “So give yourself up!”

  The girls were halfway through the caterpillar when Nancy stopped.

  “What’s that buzzing noise?” Nancy asked in a hushed voice.

  “What buzzing noise?” Bess asked.

  Nancy saw a big fat fly land on Bess’s nose. Then one on her arm. And on her forehead.

  “Eeek!” Bess shrieked. Her eyes crossed as she swatted the fly from her nose.

  “Attack!” George cried as flies dotted her own arms and legs.

  Nancy screamed, too.

  The caterpillar tunnel was filled with big, black horseflies!

  5

  Tattoo Clue

  It’s a swarm!” George cried.

  Nancy gasped as a horsefly landed on her forehead. “Let’s get out of here!”

  Covering their faces, the girls raced through the caterpillar.

  “Safe!” George gasped as they stumbled out at the other end.

  When Nancy uncovered her face she saw Orson Wong. He was standing outside the caterpillar and staring at them.

  “Blurrrp!” Frogzilla croaked from inside his case.

  “Get away from meeee!” Orson yelled as he spun around on his heel.

  The chase went on—this time all the way to the balloon gate.

  “Stop, Orson!” Nancy called. “We just want to ask you some questions!”

  Orson did stop. He pulled Frogzilla out and held it in front of his face.

  “Back! Back!” Orson demanded. “Or you’ll get warts! Giant oozy warts!”

  “Bluuurp!” Frogzilla croaked.

  The girls jumped back. They stayed silent as Orson ran out of the gate and into his dad’s car.

  “He’s guilty all right!” Bess said. “Did you see the way he ran from us?”

  “And all that candy?” George asked. “There were candy wrappers at the scenes of all the crimes.”

  Nancy pulled out her detective notebook. “And Orson did have a big jar of horseflies yesterday,” she said. “Maybe he let them loose in the caterpillar.”

  “To make more trouble!” Bess added. Next to Orson’s name Nancy wrote “candy wrappers” and “horseflies.”

  “What do we do now?” Bess asked.

  Nancy looked at her watch. Hannah would pick them up in a half an hour.

  “We have just enough time to get rub-on tattoos,” Nancy said.

  “Great!” George said. “Maybe I’ll get a butterfly.”

  “George!” Bess shuddered. “Did you have to say fly?”

  The girls each decided to get the temporary carnival tattoo on her hand. It showed a friendly red dragon wearing a yellow River Heights Carnival cap.

  When the tattoos dried, the girls ran to the balloon gate to meet Hannah.

  Nancy smiled when she saw her father drive up instead.

  “Hi, girls!” Mr. Drew called from the car window. “I left the office early so I could pick you up.”

  “Thanks, Daddy!” Nancy said.

  All three girls climbed into the backseat and buckled their seat belts.

  “Did you all have a good time at the carnival?” Mr. Drew asked.

  “Yes,” Bess said.

  “And no,” George added.

  Nancy told her father everything—the eggy potato sacks, the messed-up cutout, and the fly-filled caterpillar.

  “If I don’t solve this case in one day,” Nancy said, “we’ll be dancing to Henrietta Von Peck instead of Isabelle!”

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Drew said. “A carnival is full of surprises. You never know what you’ll find.”

  Nancy smiled. Her father was a lawyer. He always gave good advice. But this time Nancy needed more than that.

  She needed good luck!

  • • •

  “‘Candy wrappers,’” Nancy read from her notebook later. “‘Horseflies . . .’”

  It was just before dinner. Nancy was sitting on her doorstep with her notebook on her lap. Her puppy, Chip, wagged her tail as Nancy studied her notes.

  “One clue leads to Cruncher,” Nancy said. “The other to Orson. But who is it?”

  Chip barked. Nancy looked up. She saw three cone-shaped heads bobbing above the Drews’ hedge.

  “Another mystery, Detective Drew?” a voice behind the hedge asked.

  Nancy frowned. She knew that voice. It belonged to Jason Hutchings.

  Jason, David, and Mike ran into her yard. They were wearing their Moleheads from Mars costumes.

  “Our spaceship has landed!” Jason announced. “Take us to your leader!”

  “Or to your kitchen,” Mike said. He rubbed his stomach. “We’re hungry!”

  Nancy rolled her eyes. Moleheads from Mars was the boys’ favorite TV show. They loved to dress up as aliens and act silly.

  “How come you weren’t at the carnival yesterday or today?” Nancy asked.

  “We hate the carnival!” David said.

  “Why?” Nancy asked. She couldn’t imagine anyone not liking the carnival.

  “Because we wanted to be Isabelle Santoro’s opening act,” Jason explained.

  “And do what?” Nancy asked.

  “Sing the Molehead rap,” Jason said. “But Shirley said only Isabelle can sing at the carnival.”

  “So who needs the carnival?” Mike growled. He turned to his friends. “Hit it, guys!”

  Nancy wrinkled her nose as Jason, David, and Mike began to shout.

  “We’re Moleheads from Mars,

  And we’re in your face!

  We won’t stop invading

  Till we rule Outer Space!”

  Nancy gritted her teeth. For the big finish the boys blared their Mars radar blasters.

  “Time out!” Nancy shouted, covering her ears. “The show is over!”

  “Moleheads rule!” the boys declared. They held up three clenched fists.

  That’s when Nancy saw them: three rub-on carnival tattoos. The same dragon tattoos that she, Bess, and George had gotten!

  “To the spaceship!” Jason declared.

  Then the Moleheads from Mars marched out of Nancy’s yard.


  “Chip,” Nancy said slowly. “If the boys weren’t at the carnival, then how did they get those carnival tattoos?”

  6

  Creamed!

  Are you sure they were carnival tattoos?” Bess asked Nancy the next day.

  Nancy nodded. It was late Wednesday morning. Mr. Fayne had just dropped the girls off at the carnival.

  “But we’d know if the boys were at the carnival,” George told Nancy. “They’re always annoying us.”

  “That’s what makes it so strange,” Nancy said.

  The girls waited to get their carnival passbooks stamped. But this time Nancy was not so excited.

  “It’s Wednesday,” Nancy said. “And we haven’t come close to solving this case.”

  “And we still haven’t bought pies from Simon the Pieman!” Bess complained.

  They were getting their passbooks stamped when Nancy saw their classmates Molly Angelo and Amara Shane. They were on their way out.

  “Are you coming back later?” Nancy asked.

  “No way!” Amara answered. She held up her hands. “The handles in the Big Squirt game were covered with molasses!”

  “Our hands are still sticky,” Molly added. “And we washed them three times!”

  Nancy waved goodbye to Amara and Molly. Then she turned to Bess and George.

  “Molasses on the handles,” Nancy said. “Sounds like more trouble.”

  At that moment Shirley Vega walked by with Lou Fowler. He was carrying Henrietta.

  “What do you mean Henrietta won’t play the piano today?” Shirley was asking.

  “I told you, Shirley,” Lou said. “Henrietta’s gold star is missing. Someone must have snatched it right off her tent.”

  “So what?” Shirley said. “Why can’t she play?”

  “Because that was her lucky star!” Lou wailed. “And Henrietta can’t play without her lucky star!”

  “Buuuck!” Henrietta clucked.

  “Did you hear that?” Nancy whispered. “Someone stole Henrietta’s star.”

  “More trouble!” Bess groaned.

  Nancy pulled out her notebook. She made a list of all the things the carnival creep had used to make trouble: eggs, a black marker, horseflies, and molasses.

  “Speaking of trouble,” George muttered, “here comes Brenda.”

  “Did you hear about the sticky handles?” Brenda called as she ran over. “And Henrietta’s gold star?”