The Crazy Carnival Case Page 3
“We heard.” Nancy sighed.
“Am I lucky or what?” Brenda cried. “Now I have enough stuff to start writing my article!”
“Not fair, Brenda,” Nancy said. “I still have today to solve the case.”
“Calm down,” Brenda said. “I said I’d start writing the article. I didn’t say I’d deliver the papers yet.”
Nancy breathed a small sigh of relief. As long as Brenda didn’t deliver the paper to Isabelle, they were safe.
“Can we please get some mini-pies?” Bess asked. “I can smell them from here.”
Nancy glanced over at Simon the Pieman’s booth. She saw a bunch of people waiting on line. One of them was Chloe “Cruncher” Mondesky.
Nancy watched as Cruncher stepped up to the counter. She was wearing a big red backpack, and it was wide open.
“I’m going to peek in Cruncher’s backpack,” Nancy told Bess and George. “I want to see if she has molasses or a lucky star.”
“Cruncher is one of your suspects?” Brenda asked in an excited whisper. “Let me look in her backpack.”
“Why you?” Nancy asked.
“Because that will make me an investigative reporter,” Brenda declared. “Sort of like a reporter and a detective.”
“No, Brenda,” Nancy said. “Don’t—”
Nancy’s plea came too late. Brenda was already sneaking up behind Cruncher.
Brenda leaned forward. Then she reached into Cruncher’s backpack.
“Hey!” Cruncher spun around. The mini-pie she had just bought flew out of her hand. It landed with a splat in Brenda’s surprised face.
Nancy couldn’t keep from giggling. Brenda had pumpkin mush dripping from her nose and her chin.
“Nuts!” Cruncher grumbled. “I was going to eat that.”
“Pa-tooey!” Brenda sputtered as she wiped cream off her mouth.
“I hope you like Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Pie,” George said as she, Bess, and Nancy ran over.
Brenda wiped cream from her eyes. Then she glared at Nancy.
“That does it,” Brenda said. “I’m going home to write my article—once and for all!”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Cruncher said. “First you’re going to tell me what you were doing in my backpack.”
“Ask Nancy,” Brenda snapped as she huffed off. “She’ll tell you.”
Cruncher folded her arms. “Which one of you is Nancy?” she asked.
“Um,” George gulped.
“Er,” Bess squeaked.
Nancy looked up at Cruncher. She was big for an eight-year-old.
“I’m Nancy,” Nancy said bravely.
“Well?” Cruncher said. “Why was that girl going through my backpack?”
Nancy had no choice. She had to get right to the point.
“I’m a detective,” Nancy explained. “There’s been trouble at the carnival. And some of the clues lead to . . . you.”
“Me?” Cruncher snapped.
“You were mad at the carnival for using coconut cream pies,” George said. “Mad enough to make trouble.”
Nancy expected Cruncher to explode. Instead she smiled and shrugged.
“I was mad at the carnival,” Cruncher said. “But not anymore.”
“Why not?” Nancy asked.
Cruncher opened her jacket to show the blue ribbon pinned to her T-shirt.
“Because I’m the new chocolate pudding eating champ!” she declared. “I won the contest yesterday!”
Nancy stared at the ribbon. It was the same blue ribbon she had seen on Cruncher the day before.
“But you still could have put eggs in the potato sacks sometime before the contest,” Nancy pointed out.
“How could I?” Cruncher asked. “The pudding eating contest was the same time as the potato sack race yesterday.”
To prove it, Cruncher took out the carnival schedule.
Nancy looked at Tuesday’s schedule. Cruncher was right. The two contests were at the same time. But that didn’t answer all of Nancy’s questions.
She pulled the candy wrappers out from her detective notebook.
“Then how do you explain these?” Nancy asked Cruncher.
7
Hogs and Frogs
May I see those candy wrappers?” Cruncher asked.
After examining each wrapper Cruncher began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” George asked.
Cruncher didn’t answer. She grinned and held up a green candy wrapper.
“Coconut Crunchy?” Cruncher said. “Would I eat a coconut candy bar? I don’t think so!”
Nancy stared at the wrapper and blushed. “I guess I should have read the wrappers first,” she said.
“Nobody’s perfect,” Cruncher said with a smile. “So, am I clean?”
“Yes,” Nancy told her.
“But your friend with the pumpkin pie face sure wasn’t!” Cruncher joked. She gave a little wave and walked away.
“Now we have only one suspect.” Nancy sighed. She crossed Cruncher’s name out of her notebook. “Orson Wong.”
Nancy was about to shut her notebook when she heard snickering. She glanced up and saw the Three Little Pigs standing behind the pie booth counter. They were holding mini-pies.
“Hi!” Nancy called.
The three ducked behind the counter.
“What’s with them?” Nancy asked.
“Who knows?” George said. “Maybe they’re afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.”
Nancy, Bess, and George walked through the carnival looking for Orson. But he was nowhere in sight.
“Maybe Orson came early this morning,” George said. “Some of the trouble did happen before we got here.”
“We can still question Orson tomorrow,” Bess suggested. “After we buy some pies from Simon the Pieman.”
Nancy’s heart sank. The next day was Thursday. That was the day that Brenda planned to deliver the Carlton News—and her horrible article!
“We have to find Orson today,” Nancy said. “Even if it means going to his house.”
“His house?” Bess gasped. “Then we’d better bring along some pest spray.”
“For the horseflies?” Nancy asked.
“No,” Bess said. “For Orson!”
The girls finally bought mini-pies from Simon. Afterward Nancy wanted to question some people at the carnival—like Trish, the owner of the Big Squirt.
“Did you see anyone pour molasses on the squirt handles, Trish?” Nancy asked.
“Nope,” Trish said. “I keep my eye on all the kids who play this game.”
“Then did anyone have messy or sticky hands?” Nancy asked.
Trish laughed. “This is a carnival,” she said. “Everyone has messy and sticky hands!”
Next Nancy wanted to question Lou Fowler, but when they reached Henrietta’s tent there was a big sign that read SHOWS CANCELLED.
“Wow!” George whistled. “Henrietta really can’t play without her lucky star.”
The girls decided to spend the next hour playing their favorite carnival games—Hole in One, Cover the Dot, and Knock ’em Down. They didn’t win any pandas, but they did win pretty plastic bracelets.
After slipping on the bracelets, Nancy and her friends met Hannah. She dropped them off at Orson’s house.
“There he is,” Bess whispered.
Nancy saw Orson sitting on his doorstep. He was spraying Frogzilla with a plastic water bottle.
“What are you doing?” Nancy asked.
“I’m spraying Frogzilla,” Orson explained. “To keep him moist and limber.”
“Blurrrp!” Frogzilla croaked.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Orson asked, not looking up.
“There’s been trouble at the carnival,” Nancy said. “Yesterday there were raw eggs in the potato sacks. And big black horseflies in the caterpillar.”
“Today there was more trouble,” George pointed out. “The Big Squirt—”
“Hel-lo?” Orson interrupted. “I wasn’t
at the carnival today.”
Nancy looked at Bess and George. Should they believe Orson?
“Blurrrp!” Frogzilla croaked. Then he leaped off the doorstep.
“Frogzilla!” Orson cried. He stood up to grab his frog.
As Orson bent over Nancy saw something sticking out of his back pocket. It was his carnival passbook.
“Gotcha!” Nancy said, grabbing it.
“Hey!” Orson said. He spun around with Frogzilla in his hands.
Quickly, Nancy opened the passbook. It was stamped for Monday and Tuesday. But it wasn’t stamped for Wednesday.
“See?” Orson said. “I wasn’t at the carnival today. You’ve got the wrong man.”
“But what about the horseflies in the caterpillar yesterday?” Bess asked. “Weren’t those flies yours?”
“Yeah.” Orson sighed. “But I didn’t put them there on purpose.”
“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.
“It was an accident,” Orson said. “I was crawling through the caterpillar and the lid popped off the jar. Soon there were flies everywhere!”
“We know.” Bess shuddered.
“The only way I could think of getting them back was with sugary stuff,” Orson said. “So I bought a load of junk food.”
Nancy looked at Bess and George. That explained all the candy.
“But what did you mean when you said, ‘We’ll show them’?” Nancy asked.
Orson rolled his eyes. “It means Frogzilla will be in the frog jumping contest tomorrow. We’ll show them when we win.”
Then Orson picked up Frogzilla. He grinned as he held him out to the girls.
“And maybe if you kiss him,” Orson said, “he’ll turn into a prince!”
“Blurrrrp!”
“Ewww!” Bess cried.
“Gross!” George exclaimed.
The girls ran from the Wong house. When they were two blocks away they turned to one another and giggled.
“That rules out Orson,” George said.
“If it isn’t Orson, and it isn’t Cruncher,” Bess asked. “Then who is it?”
Nancy stopped giggling. She had no more suspects and only a few hours left. But she was not going to give up.
“Let’s get our bikes and ride back to the carnival,” Nancy said. “There might be something we missed.”
The girls got permission to ride their bikes to the carnival. They showed their passbooks at the gate and went in.
“Where do we start?” George asked.
“At Simon’s,” Bess said. “I could use another Little Boy Blueberry mini-pie.”
“But you already had a mini-pie,” Nancy said.
“That was almost two hours ago,” Bess said.
Once again the girls lined up at Simon the Pieman’s booth.
While Bess ordered a mini-pie, Nancy saw a colorful postcard pinned above the counter. It showed a lake and thick green trees.
“Who is that nice postcard from, Simon?” Nancy asked.
“Oh, that’s from Nicky, Vicky, and Ricky,” Simon said. “My kids are at sleepaway camp all summer.”
“Camp?” Nancy repeated. “But—”
“Sure do miss them,” Simon said. Then he called over Nancy’s head. “Next!”
Nancy looked at Bess and George. Then the girls stepped away from the booth.
“If the triplets are in camp,” Nancy said slowly. “Then who are the Three Little Pigs?”
8
Isabelle’s Surprise
Those pigs were acting strange,” George said. “All three of them.”
When George held up three fingers Nancy saw her carnival tattoo. It hadn’t washed off completely.
That’s when it clicked. Jason, David, and Mike had had carnival tattoos on their hands. Maybe they had been at the carnival.
“Let’s check out that pie booth,” Nancy said. “There might be more in there than just yummy pies.”
The girls ran back to the booth. While Simon served a customer, Nancy stood on the side of the counter and peeked in.
In the back of the booth was a pretty display of what Simon used to make his pies. On a table covered with a red tablecloth were a bowl of fruit, bottles of molasses, and a basket of white eggs.
“Eggs and molasses!” Nancy gasped.
Then Nancy noticed something else. The sign with the pie flavors was written with a black marker—the same kind of marker that had messed up Isabelle’s cutout!
“Bess, George,” Nancy said. “I think I know who’s inside those costumes, and it’s not the Three Little Pigs.”
“Then who?” Bess asked.
“It’s the Three Little Pests,” Nancy said. “Jason, David, and Mike!”
Nancy, Bess, and George raced through the carnival. They found the Three Little Pigs on line at the slushy stand.
Very quietly the girls sneaked up behind the Three Little Pigs. They each grabbed a hood and yanked it off.
“Gotcha!” George shouted.
Jason, David, and Mike spun around. Their mouths dropped open.
“I thought you weren’t going to the carnival this week,” Nancy said. “And what are you doing dressed as the Three Little Pigs?”
“Don’t bite our heads off!” Jason exclaimed.
“When Shirley wouldn’t let us sing, Simon felt sorry for us,” Mike said. “So he asked us to be the Three Little Pigs.”
“And you showed your thanks by making trouble?” Nancy demanded.
“It wasn’t us!” David insisted.
“No way!” Jason agreed.
Nancy decided to try to trick the boys into admitting what they’d done.
“Then what was Henrietta’s lucky star doing behind the counter?” Nancy asked. She hadn’t really seen the star there, though.
David turned to Mike. “I thought you put it in your backpack, dork!”
“I did!” Mike insisted. Then he turned red. “I mean . . . whoops.”
“Busted.” Jason sighed.
Nancy glared at the boys until they explained everything.
“We did most of the sneaky stuff before the carnival opened,” Jason said. “Me and Mike put the eggs in the potato sacks while David helped Nina with the finish line.”
“And Jason kept Trish busy while Mike and I slopped molasses on the squirt handles,” David said.
“I was the one who snatched Henrietta’s star,” Mike said. “While Lou was eating a blueberry pie in his tent.”
“It was easy sneaking around in these costumes,” Jason said. “Everyone thought we were Nicky, Vicky, and Ricky. And who would suspect the Three Little Pigs?”
Nancy and her friends were practically speechless. How dare the boys spoil the carnival?
“Are you going to squeal on us?” Mike asked the girls.
“You’ll be in less trouble if you apologize yourselves,” Nancy said. “But if you don’t tell, we will.”
The boys grumbled as they grabbed their masks. Then they walked away.
“They’re worried,” Nancy said.
“How do you know?” Bess asked.
“They didn’t buy slushies,” Nancy pointed out happily.
“And you solved the case,” George told Nancy. “Now Brenda won’t write that article and give it to Isabelle tomorrow.”
“And Isabelle will sing at the carnival!” Bess said, jumping up and down.
“Yippee!” Nancy cheered. “I’m going to call Brenda and tell her right now.”
Nancy ran to a pay phone on the side of the school. There was a telephone book on a small shelf underneath.
Flipping through, Nancy found the Carltons’ number. She dropped some coins into the telephone and pushed the numbers.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered.
“Mrs. Carlton?” Nancy said. “This is Nancy Drew. Is Brenda home?”
“No, dear,” Mrs. Carlton said. “Brenda went to deliver her paper.”
Nancy gulped. “The Carlton News?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Carlton s
aid. “She said she was going to Isabelle Santoro’s house. Somewhere on Chestnut Street, I believe.”
Nancy stammered a quick goodbye and hung up. “Brenda wrote her article, and she’s on her way to Isabelle’s!” she cried. “We have to stop her!”
“Wait!” George said. She looked around. “Where’s Bess?”
Nancy saw Bess running over. In her arms was a big stuffed panda.
“Look what I just won at the Big Squirt,” Bess said. “For Isabelle!”
“Way to go!” Nancy said. She told Bess about Brenda as they ran out of the carnival. They jumped on their bikes and rode the five blocks to Chestnut Street.
“There’s Brenda!” Nancy cried. “She’s about to ring Isabelle’s doorbell!”
The girls jumped off their bikes. Bess grabbed the panda from her basket.
“Brenda—stop!” Nancy called as they raced up the Santoros’ path. “You said you’d deliver the paper tomorrow!”
Brenda looked at the paper in her hand and shrugged. “Early edition.”
“That’s not fair!” George shouted. “We just solved the case and—”
The door swung open.
“Hi,” a voice said.
The girls whirled around. Nancy gasped. It was Isabelle Santoro!
“Oooh!” Isabelle said, smiling. “Is that for me?”
Brenda held out her paper. “Yes!”
“Not that,” Isabelle said. “The panda. I love pandas!”
“We know,” Bess said. She handed Isabelle the panda.
“Thanks!” Isabelle said. Then her dark eyes lit up. “Wait a minute. Are you all going to be at the carnival tomorrow?”
Nancy nodded.
“Because I could use girls like you for my act,” Isabelle said.
“Your act?” Brenda cried. “You mean—like onstage? Really? Truly?”
“I thought you said she sings like a parrot,” Bess whispered in Brenda’s ear. “With crackers—”
Brenda gave Bess a hard nudge.
“Ouch!” Bess complained.
“When I sing ‘It’s My Secret,’” Isabelle said, “all you have to do is pretend you’re whispering in one another’s ears. It’s a cinch!”
“We’ll do it!” Brenda said. She shoved her newspaper behind her back.