Ripper Read Free Page A

his arm. Carver’s ribs ached. He wanted to wince from the pain but forced himself to remain expressionless. He was, after all, in the right.
    A week ago, ten-year-old Madeline’s locket, all she had of her dead mother, was stolen. Miss Petty announced that if it were on her desk by morning, there’d be no questions asked. But that wasn’t good enough for Carver. He hid in the storage closet next door waiting, until Finn, without so much as a guilty look, appeared and put Madeline’s locket on the desk.
    Bad enough Finn and his gang had the run of the place, bad enough his good looks helped him get away with it. But steal a poor kid’s locket for a smidgen of gold? Carver had had enough. He snuck the locket back to the boys’ dorm, then waited for the deep snoring that told him Finn was asleep. Then he crept up and laid the locket on his barrel chest.
    In the morning, they all woke to Tommy, one of the younger boys, shouting, “Finn has the locket!”
    As the others sleepily surrounded him, a wide-eyed Finn stared at the chain dangling from his index finger. It was perfect, until Carver ruined it by grinning too widely. When Finn spotted him, even if he couldn’t figure out what had happened, he knew Carver had something to do with it.
    Like a steam locomotive, he came for him, shoving the bed back two feet as he rose. But before the lumbering hulk could reach him, Miss Petty arrived. Finn was dragged out by his ear, face as bright red as his hair. Detective Young had solved his first crime. A just punishment would be meted out.
    Only it wasn’t. Whatever went on behind the closed office door, Finn seemed none the worse for wear. Carver could only wonder what happened, or why Finn had yet to take vengeance. The whole thing had been very confusing. Even now, as Finn stormed off, instead of thanking him, Delia glared at Carver with disapproval.
    Carver felt flustered. “He stole Madeline’s locket. I saw him try to put it back!”
    “Phineas has never been a thief,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
    “He’s been everything
else,
hasn’t he? For
years
!”
    “But not a thief,” she calmly repeated. “It’s not in his character. Unlike someone else I know, who never seems to run out of apples.”
    Carver stiffened. “Oh, I get it. You’re sweet on him, just like the rest of the girls.”
    Her face shivered. “Just because I don’t think he’s a criminal doesn’t mean I want to marry him. And even if he is guilty, Mister Ace Detective, was that the smartest play you could have made? He could’ve beaten you to a pulp.” She sighed. “I suppose you think you were doing the right thing, and Miss Petty says that when a jackass flies, we shouldn’t question how high it flies but that it flies at all.”
    Carver felt suddenly small. “You think I’m a jackass?”
    She shook her head. “You
are
different, though. The fact you stood up to Finn at all shows that.” She examined him, as if trying to suss the change, then pointed at his bulging pockets. “Not a great hiding place for apples. Can I have one?”
    Grunting, he pulled one out for each of them. She took a bite. “You’ll probably want to stop swiping things from the kitchen until Prospective Parents Day.”
    He shrugged. “It’s a waste for me. I’m fourteen, too big to be anyone’s baby, too…
scrawny
to be a good apprentice.”
    She didn’t disagree. “Miss Petty says I’ve never been adopted because I’m too smart. Men don’t want anyone putting ideas in their wives’ heads. It’s also why she never suggested me for an Orphan Train. I think I’d go insane working on a farm.”
    “I was too
scrawny
for the Midwest.” He used the word again, still hoping she’d disagree. “Just as well. I like it here. Tallest building, longest bridge… What else do you need?”
    She nodded. “That’s why I took matters into my own hands. I’ve been corresponding with Jerrik and Anne Ribe. They both work for the
New York Times.
He’s a