“Since when do you care about rules?” I asked.
“Since I got put on probation,” Summer answered, now keeping her voice low. “I got busted for sneaking out after curfew last week. If anything else happens, they’ll boot me out of here—and Daddy will have a cow. Thanks for calling with the update. I’ll let you know the moment we hear anything.”
Summer hung up before I could even say good-bye. I tucked my phone back in my pocket and trudged into the landscaping beside the Polar Pavilion.
The Kazoo costume lay crumpled right where I’d abandoned it. There was no one around. Everyone who’d witnessed the attack had apparently gone home. I figured I should return the costume to its rightful place; if someone noticed it was missing, Marge might comb through the security footage and find me entering the changing room. It was easier to wear it than to carry it, though, so I quickly pulled it on and hurried across the park.
There were no longer any tourists to stop me, so I made good time and was soon back at the changing room. No one was there, which wasn’t surprising; the actors tended to take off the moment their shifts ended, and it was now well after closing time. I pulled off my koala pelt and hung it on the wall.
Before I could make it out the door, however, Charlie Connor entered.
He was wearing his old Larry the Lizard costume, although since it was after park hours, he had the head tucked under his arm and a cigar in his mouth. Charlie was normally in a bad mood, but it got considerably worse upon seeing me. He stopped in his tracks and pointed accusingly. “You! What are you doing here?”
I stuttered for a moment, scrambling to come up with something, then realized I actually had a legitimate reason to be there. “I —well—I . . . was looking for you.”
“Me?” Charlie’s eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. “Oh no. This is about that missing koala, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Of course.” Charlie stormed past me, threw his lizard head up onto the shelf, and unzipped his costume. “There’s been a crime, so naturally, you’re playing detective again. Well, just like last time, I didn’t do anything. I had no beef with that koala.”
“Kristi Sullivan said you did.”
Charlie froze in shock, halfway out of his costume. He looked like a mutant lizard shedding its skin. “She ratted me out? That girl’s a piece of work. First she refuses to go out with me on the grounds that I’m a little person—”
“She refused because you tried to scam FunJungle.”
“That was a legitimate injury claim, and this lousy park rejected it!” Charlie angrily kicked off the rest of his costume. “And even if it wasn’t on the up-and-up, that doesn’t make me a koala-napper. If you want to know who did that, maybe you ought to look at Kristi herself.”
“What?” I asked. “Kristi wouldn’t steal Kazoo. She loved him.”
“Exactly,” Charlie told me. “She was always going on about how adorable he was and how she’d be so upset when the time came for him to go back to Australia. More than once she told me she might swipe him so she could keep him forever.”
“I’m sure she was only joking.”
“Was she? ’Cause the koala’s gone, and she had better access to his exhibit than anyone.”
I started to counter that, then bit my lip, realizing Charlie had a point. The real reason I’d discounted Kristi as a potential thief was that I liked her, but just because someone was nice—or at least pretending to be nice—didn’t mean they couldn’t do something wrong. “But she was so worried about him . . . ,” I began.
“Smoke and mirrors, kid. Totally threw you off her scent, didn’t she?”
“I guess, but . . .”
“Let me ask you something else: Why’d she say I took Kazoo? To ransom him? Shake the park down for a few million?”
“Yes.”
“Then where’s the ransom note?” Charlie asked. “That’s the number one rule of kidnapping, isn’t it? Ask for a ransom. If you don’t do it, you don’t get the money. But there isn’t a note. Therefore, either the kidnapper is an idiot, which I’m not—or Kazoo wasn’t kidnapped at all.”
I nodded understanding, but added, “You could still make money off a stolen koala.”
“How?”
“By selling it.”
Charlie laughed. “Right. Exactly how easy do you think it is to fence a koala?”
I shrugged.
“It’s impossible,” Charlie said. “It’s not like there’s a couple hundred koalas for sale on eBay every day and I could just slip Kazoo in there without being noticed. Right now there’s exactly one koala at large in this country, and the very moment whoever took it tries to sell it, every cop, Fed, and animal-rights activist is gonna come down on them.”
“Not if Flora Hancock had already hired you to steal it for her.”
Charlie seemed legitimately confused by this statement. “I don’t know any Floral Peacock.”
“Flora Hancock,” I repeated. “The rich lady from Waco who collects exotic animals.”
“Never heard of her.” Either Charlie was being honest or he was one heck of an actor.
“You’re sure?” I asked. “Because she spent a lot of time in KoalaVille.”
“So did plenty of people. I didn’t meet any of them. I just stood around in that stinking koala suit and let people take my picture.” I tried to say something else, but Charlie cut me off. “And besides, if this fancy-pants collector really did want Kazoo, why would she come to me? I don’t know squat about stealing koalas. Long ago, I was a two-bit mugger who took cash and jewelry. Nothing more intricate than that. And I’ve been clean for over five years now. I’m trying to live a normal, law-abiding life—which isn’t easy when every time there’s a crime you start pointing fingers at me because I’m the only criminal you know.”
“Kristi said you had a new plan to bilk FunJungle.”
Charlie backed down a bit, busted. “All I was gonna do was inflate my hours a bit. That’s not exactly the crime of the century. And for your information, I never actually did it. I only bragged about having a plan to impress Kristi. Being a schmo who dresses like a marsupial for a living wasn’t exactly knocking her socks off.”
For a moment I almost felt sorry for Charlie. But then I caught myself. After all, Charlie had tried to con FunJungle with a bogus medical claim, which meant he wasn’t exactly law-abiding—and he’d mentioned Kazoo as a potential moneymaking target to Kristi. Or had he? If Kristi had taken Kazoo, then she’d certainly picked the right person to divert my attention from her.
In fact she’d picked two people. And right now, of those two, Freddie Malloy was the one who really looked like he was up to no good. He was the one who’d been talking to Astros Cap, not Charlie Connor. The idea of Charlie stealing Kazoo on behalf of Flora Hancock now seemed quite far-fetched—although not completely impossible.
“You’re not the only criminal I know,” I said. “There’s also Freddie Malloy.”
Charlie stared at me for a moment, a little off guard. Then he shook his head again. “Freddie’s a moron, not a criminal.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I hear he was really angry at Kazoo.”
“Who’d you hear that from? Kristi?”
“No,” I lied, although I apparently wasn’t convincing. Charlie saw right through it.
“Sounds like you did,” he said. “More smoke and mirrors. I don’t blame you, though. She’s a cute one, that Kristi. And the cute ones can be very convincing, because you want to believe them. A guy who looks like me, though, has a hard enough time trying to get anyone to ever believe the truth.”
“I don’t think Freddie’s completely clean,” I said. “I saw him talking to a known criminal today.”
Charlie laughed again. “Oh, you did? And who, exactly, was this criminal?”
“I don’t know his name,” I admitted. “But he’s a big, mean guy who always wears sunglasses and a orange Astros baseball cap.”
I was look
ing right into Charlie’s eyes as I said this. He didn’t betray an ounce of recognition. “That’s all you’ve got?” he asked. “Not even a name?”
“No.”
“I thought you said this guy was a known criminal.”
“He tried to beat someone up here today.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “But I saw it happen.”
I was more convincing this time. Charlie bought it. “That doesn’t make the guy a criminal,” he said. “It makes him a jerk. And besides, I have no idea who he is or what Freddie Malloy was doing with him. Here’s my two cents: If you really want to find this koala, take a good, hard look at Kristi Sullivan.” With that, he stormed out of the changing room.
I followed him. “Where are you going?”
“Home. My shift’s over. I’m done—and so is this interrogation. Now leave me alone.”
I stopped. Charlie kept on going without a look back.
Was he right about Kristi? I wondered. I had a hard time imagining she could have ever taken Kazoo, but then, as Charlie had suggested, maybe I was letting her off easy because she seemed nice.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked it and found I’d missed a call from Dad a few minutes before. The costume room had lousy reception. I was about to call back when I got the feeling someone was watching me.
I spun around to find Marge O’Malley leaning against a lamppost. She grinned in a taunting way. “What were you talking to Charlie about, Teddy?”
I wondered how long Marge had been there, and if she’d seen me enter the room with the costume earlier. “I’m doing your job,” I told her. “Trying to find out who stole Kazoo.”
“I know who stole Kazoo,” Marge said. “You did. And I’ve got all the proof I need to put you away. In fact, I even picked up a little bonus tidbit of information today that ought to be the final nail in your coffin.”
I doubted Marge could have recognized a piece of evidence to save her life, but her confidence made me uneasy. “What is it?” I asked.
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Marge said, “after I present my case to J.J. McCracken. You’ll be heading straight to juvenile hall—though the cops might go easier on you if you cough up the koala first.” Marge stomped over and fixed me with her hardest stare. “So where is it?”
I tried to muster my own hard stare in return. “I don’t know, Marge. I didn’t take him.”
Marge laughed. It sounded evil, like the deep-throated rumble that hippos make. “You want to play it like this, that’s fine with me. You’ll only end up doing more time.” She grinned and strode away with an actual bounce in her step. “It’s gonna be a great day tomorrow: the day I finally get rid of Teddy Fitzroy once and for all.”
FURIOUS GEORGE
According to Dad’s message, he was done with his photography session. He grabbed some sandwiches at the Gorilla Grill and we met up at Mom’s office for dinner.
Normally, Mom hated eating dinner in her office. She said she spent enough time there during the day. However, it was cold that night, which meant that our trailer would be freezing, and besides, she wanted to keep an eye on Furious George.
George was now in chimpanzee solitary, a cell situated right next to Mom’s office. There was a large window between them, allowing us to observe George (and allowing him to observe us, too). The cell was really two rooms, divided by a wall of bars down the middle, so that someone could be in there with a quarantined animal but not be in danger of getting hurt. George’s side of the cell was actually quite nice; it wasn’t supposed to be a punishment so much as a safe place to take an animal off display. There were plenty of ropes to climb and toys to play with. George was swinging about, looking happy and perfectly mentally balanced.
Therefore Mom wasn’t paying much attention to him. Instead she was completely focused on me.
I told her and Dad everything that had happened that day, with one exception. I didn’t own up to swiping the Kazoo costume, figuring that would get me in trouble. Instead I said I’d merely “happened” to stumble across Freddie and Astros Cap colluding. (I still told them Astros Cap had threatened me, but claimed he was run off for picking on a kid.) Normally, Mom might have seized on the gaps in my story, but that night she and Dad had too much else to deal with. They listened silently as I recounted facing the bullies, my run-in with Astros Cap, and my conversation with Charlie Connor. But when it was all over, Mom was so worked up she didn’t know what to discuss first. She kept starting to say one thing, then changing her mind and trying to say something else, before finally deciding to focus on Vance.
“I can’t believe—why didn’t you—? I specifically told you not to—this bullying has gone far enough! I’m calling your principal again!” She reached for her office phone, but I blocked her.
“Mom, don’t,” I pleaded. “That will only make Vance Jessup angrier at me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mom told me. “The school needs to handle this. Those boys need to be punished!”
“Vance and TimJim don’t care about being punished,” I said. “But I know they don’t want to face the football players again. I think they’ll leave me alone after what happened today.”
“Maybe not,” Dad cautioned. “And the football team won’t always be there to protect you.”
“That’s right,” Mom echoed.
“So the next time one of these guys comes at you,” Dad said, “you just haul off and punch him square in the nose.”
“Jack!” Mom gasped. “Don’t tell Teddy that! It’ll only get him in more trouble!”
“He’s in enough trouble as it is,” Dad countered, then turned back to me. “Your average bully is really a coward. He only survives by intimidation. If you fight back, it’ll completely catch him off guard. One good sock, right here.” Dad pointed to his nose. “You’ll bloody him up nice and good and he’ll never bother you again.”
“Or he’ll get angry and pound our son to a pulp,” Mom said tartly.
“He won’t, Charlene,” Dad said. “Trust me. This works.”
“How would you know?” Mom asked suspiciously. “Have you done this?”
Dad shrugged. “I’ve dealt with a few bullies in my time.”
Mom’s mouth dropped open. This was obviously news to her. “When?”
“Middle school,” Dad said. “High school too. And a couple years ago in South Africa, this meathead in a bar tried to shake me down—”
“Enough,” Mom said, before he could go on. “Teddy, don’t listen to your father. Violence is never the answer. Promise me that you won’t try to fight anyone.”
I glanced at my father. Behind Mom’s back, he signaled me to say yes, though when Mom looked at him, he pretended to be scratching his head.
“Okay,” I said. “But right now I’m more worried about Astros Cap than Vance Jessup.”
Mom put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Oh, I doubt he’ll threaten you again. He was probably just trying to scare you off.”
“I’m not worried about him hurting me,” I said. “I’m worried about what he’s up to.”
“What do you mean?” Mom asked.
“Well, Freddie was already angry at FunJungle,” I explained. “So maybe he hired this guy to get rid of Kazoo. But the guy’s still hanging around. That doesn’t make any sense unless they’re planning to do something else nasty. Something to Shark Odyssey, maybe.”
Mom and Dad shared a look, mulling this over. Neither seemed to completely buy it.
“We don’t really have any evidence that this Astros Cap guy had anything to do with Kazoo,” Dad told me. “All we know is that he was at the scene of the crime after it happened—like a lot of other people. And that he knows Freddie.”
“He looked suspicious,” I said. “And he got really upset when he thought I was following him.”
“That doesn’t make him a criminal,” Mom said. “And no matter how angry Freddie Malloy was, I can’t imagine him hiring anyone to get r
id of Kazoo. He loves animals. No one would even attempt a show like his if they didn’t.”
I sighed, frustrated by my parents’ arguments. And then I thought of something else. “Arthur Koenig also might have taken Kazoo.” In all the excitement with Astros Cap, I’d forgotten about Arthur.
Mom and Dad stared at me, surprised. “Why do you say that?” Dad inquired.
“I overheard him trying to sell something to someone today. He was being really suspicious and asking for a lot of money.”
“Did he mention Kazoo specifically?” Mom asked.
“No,” I said. “But he said he’d taken a big risk to get whatever he was selling, and that if people found out, he could go to jail.”
Dad and Mom shared an intrigued look. “Sounds like he was definitely up to something,” Dad agreed.
Mom frowned. “It does, but Arthur’s a good, caring keeper. I can’t see him taking Kazoo either. . . .”
“Well, someone had to!” I exclaimed. “And if we can’t figure out who, I’m going to jail for this!”
“What about Charlie Connor?” Mom suggested. “We know he has a criminal background.”
“Charlie actually had some good reasons to explain why he hadn’t done it,” I said. “He said he didn’t have the slightest idea how to steal or fence a koala.”
“Well, you wouldn’t expect him to admit that he did, would you?” Dad asked.
“No, but I still believe him.” I hesitated before adding, “Charlie said we ought to consider Kristi.”
Mom recoiled slightly. “Kristi? Why would she steal Kazoo?”
“To get a koala,” I answered. “Charlie said she knew the koala exhibit better than anyone.”
Mom shook her head. “No one who knew anything about koalas would steal one. They’re virtually impossible to care for.”
I thought back to Kristi and how concerned she’d been about Kazoo. It was hard to imagine her faking that to throw me off her trail. She was the one who had told me that Kazoo had such a specialized diet—and that he’d starve to death if he wasn’t rescued soon. If she knew that, why would she take him?