Part 10 (1/2)
”Yeah! The Man of Molten Iron is taking on the Brickhouse Brothers,” said Jordan enthusiastically.
Byron didn't say anything. He's the quietest of the triplets, and I suspected he wasn't as interested in wrestling as the other two.
”Well, why don't you go watch whatever it is the others are watching. I'll join you in a minute, and we'll think of something else to do.” A good baby-sitter does not just park her charges in front of the television. I had no intention of doing that to the Pikes. But I wanted to have a word with Mal first.
Mal was sitting on her bed, the BSC notebook open in front of her and stacks of paper around her. She had stuck a pencil over one ear and a highlighter pen over the other.
That stopped me for a moment. ”Wow,” I said. ”That looks like a bigger job than I thought.”
”It is,” said Mal. ”Huge.”
”The triplets tell me they've been keeping an eye on things. 'Things' is everybody watching television.”
”That's nice,” said Mal. She took her pencil, wrote something on a piece of paper, put the pencil back, took the highlighter and highlighted it, then put the paper on a stack.
”You want to help?” asked Mal in a not-very-encouraging voice. ”No, thanks,” I said. ”I have to baby-sit.”
Mal knew what I was hinting at. But she didn't respond. She just made another note on another piece of paper.
I returned to the den full of Pikes. I was just in time. The triplets were playing catch with the remote control. The channels were flipping by at dizzying speed and the volume was set at full blast. Vanessa had set her hands on her hips and was stomping her foot. Margo and Nicky were leaping around the room trying to catch the remote in mid-pa.s.s. Claire's face was very, very red and I knew it was a matter of moments before she began to shriek. Or cry.
I made a grand jete-save, grabbed the remote, and clicked off the television.
The silence was deafening. Everybody looked at me.
”Aw, what'd you do that for?” Jordan complained.
”What do you think?” I asked.
Jordan made a face.
There was a lot of pent-up energy in that room. Suddenly I had an inspiration. ”How would you guys like to do some detective work?” I asked.
”You mean play detective?” Nicky asked.
”No, real detective work - if we can invite Becca over.”
”I'll call her,” said Vanessa instantly. She and my little sister Becca are good friends.
While we waited for Becca to arrive, I filled everybody in on her sighting of the man with the blue tattoo. ”Becca's a little freaked out by the tattoo,” I said. ”And my friends and I think he might be a man we helped catch and send to jail for being a counterfeiter.”
”Neatsy,” said Claire. She wrinkled her brow. ”What's a count and fitter?”
”Counterfeiter,” I corrected her. ”That's a person who makes fake money and then tries to use it like real money.”
”Like Monopoly?” asked Claire.
”Sort of,” I said. ”But you can tell that Monopoly money isn't real. The only thing it will buy you is Monopoly property. The man with the blue tattoo made fake money that looked real and then spent it. Only it wasn't real, so the people who took it were cheated.”
”Oh,” said Claire. I wasn't sure she understood, but she seemed caught up in the idea of being a detective just the same.
Soon Becca arrived. We told her about our plan to solve the Mystery of the Man With the Blue Tattoo. She didn't exactly look thrilled, but, like Claire, she went along with the enthusiastic crowd.
”Okay, triplets, you're in charge of seeing that everyone is bundled up warmly enough. It's pretty chilly outside. I'm going to get Mal and we'll let your parents know where we are going.”
Mal hadn't moved from her spot on the bed.
”Mallory Pike,” I said. ”You are supposed to be helping me baby-sit. I know you're mad because you didn't get to go to Shadow Lake. But it's not fair to sulk in your room and leave me to do all the work.”
Mallory looked startled. ”Oh!” she exclaimed. Then her cheeks reddened. ”Was that what I was doing? I guess it was. I'm sorry.”
”Good,” I said. ”We're going on a Blue Tattoo Manhunt, so come on.”
Mal grinned sheepishly. ”Okay,” she said.
And that was that.
A few minutes later, we were headed out the door. Mr. and Mrs. Pike, both of whom were wearing masks like the ones Abby sometimes wears on bad allergy days, were wrestling big'pink rolls of insulation around the attic. They seemed almost relieved when we said we were going out. Mr. Pike gave us money, in case we wanted to get a pizza for lunch.
”The bright side of insulation, I guess,” Mal remarked, putting the money in her pocket.
Traveling with a large group of kids, especially the Pike kids, with triplets among them, is a guarantee that you will not be anonymous. (I was glad we weren't trying to stake out Mr. Seger's house!) And traveling with a large group of kids who are trying to be detectives is pretty daunting, both for the baby-sitters and for the unwary pa.s.sersby.
”Where was this tattoo?” I asked Becca.
”On his face,” she said in a small voice. She squinted her eyes tightly shut for a moment.
”Did it cover his whole face?” asked Vanessa, looking worried.
”Was it a monster? Something good?” asked Jordan.
”Oh, ick, you're sick,” said Vanessa.
”It wasn't a monster,” said Becca. ”I don't remember. It was just blue, that's all.”
”We'll find him,” said Nicky.
That meant that every male pa.s.serby was subject to the full force of eight pairs of eyes, staring penetratingly at his face. And of course, Mal and I looked, too. We just tried to be more discreet about it.
One man smoothed his hair back nervously.
Another man with bushy eyebrows frowned menacingly. Several men pretended not to notice at all.
Nicky was staring so hard that he walked into a fence. Fortunately, he wasn't hurt.
”Too bad it wasn't wet paint,” said Adam. ”That would've been cool.”
Mal and I exchanged a glance while the trip^ lets and Nicky snickered.