Mr. Pin: The Chocolate Files Read Free Page A

from the opera house and asked him to pick me up at intermission.”
    â€œBut the note,” said Maggie. “You must have written the note saying you were in danger.”
    â€œWhat note?” asked Mac.
    â€œThe note Berta found on your music stand,” said Maggie.
    â€œMac didn’t write that note,” explained Mr. Pin. “He didn’t even see it. Mac had a bottle of chocolate syrup by his music stand. Anyone who likes chocolate that much would have left chocolate stains on a note he had handled. There was no trace of chocolate on the note.”
    â€œThen who wrote the note?” asked Maggie.
    â€œBerta Largamente,” said Mr. Pin. “My guess is she was really worried about the conductor, his strange behavior, and probably her career. She jumped to the conclusion that Mac might be in trouble or could even be kidnapped. Berta wrote the note to make sure I’d take the case. She never told us why she didn’t just call the police.”
    â€œHow did you know about Luigi?” asked Mac.
    â€œThat was simple,” Mr. Pin said to Mac. “You had his chocolate nearby when you disappeared and you were seen talking to him in the diner. That’s probably when you asked Luigi to help stage your kidnapping. Luigi was probably waiting just outside the opera house in his truck.”
    â€œAmazing detective work,” said Mac. “I guess I should let people know I’m all right. And I’ll need to find someone to take my place while I drive a truck for a little while.”
    â€œI think we can work something out,” said Mr. Pin, then added, “Just one more thing. I’ll bet your name isn’t Mac.”
    â€œNo,” said the conductor. “It’s not. But Mac sounded more like a truck driver’s name. My real name is Alberto Dente.”
    â€œBut just call him Al,” said Luigi, the pasta man.
    Chicago was one of those big cities that made room for a conductor named Alberto Dente who wanted to be a pasta truck driver named Mac for a little while. It also made room for a truck driver, Luigi, who became a star tenor while Mac delivered his pasta. But best of all, the Windy City welcomed a rock hopper penguin detective who conducted the opera for Mac … that is, until another case came by Smiling Sally’s diner on Monroe.
    No reason why big cities can’t have big hearts.

A Case of Stolen Eggs

1
    Chicago was a hot city in July. Hot streets with cool museums. So when the fans broke in Smiling Sally’s diner, Maggie and Mr. Pin went to the Field Museum to look at dinosaurs.
    It was bone-dry and cool inside the museum. Spotlights lit huge dinosaur skeletons and exhibits in glass cases. Maggie stopped at the brontosaurus skeleton. Mr. Pin went on to look at protoceratops eggs in a glass case.
    Mr. Pin pressed his beak against the glass. Suddenly he noticed a screwdriver glinting in a spotlight. Then a black, gloved hand slowly worked its way up the case. In an instant, the spotlight went out and the whole room was pitch-black.
    Alarms howled. Mr. Pin searched in the dark for his black bag. Running feet brushed by. He found his bag and took out a large flashlight. In the flashlight’s beam, he caught Maggie crouched next to the great ground sloth. Then he scanned the protoceratops egg case with his light. The black, gloved hand was gone.
    Meanwhile, Maggie crept toward Mr. Pin. “It doesn’t look like anything is missing,” she said.
    â€œLook closely,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œIt looks like six protoceratops eggs,” said Maggie.

    â€œThat’s what the thief wanted you to think,” said Mr. Pin. “The eggs,” he pointed out, “are chocolate.”
    â€œThen the real eggs were stolen,” said Maggie. “Are there any clues?”
    â€œChocolate is always a clue,” said Mr. Pin.
    The glass door of the case had been forced open, so the penguin detective was able to