poked his tongue into his cheek, gazed up at the ceiling as though he were seeing it for the first time.
"Trust me," Frank said into the phone while scowling at his brother. "I'll fill you in on anything we dig up. Sure, of course, I'm sorry you have to stay home and rest up tonight. But, Callie, that's better than staying in the hospital another day, isn't it?"
Joe discovered a fleck of apple skin caught between two of his front teeth and began digging for it with the nail of his little finger.
"I miss you, of course. Right. Me, too. Yes, he is. Uh-huh, sitting right here and gawking at me in his usual dimwit way. I'll tell him. Good night, Callie." Frank hung up and gave his brother a look. "Remind me to explain 'invasion of privacy' to you someday, Joe."
"How's she doing?"
"Better. But her doctor wants her to take it easy for a couple more days."
"What'd she tell you to tell me?"
"It's best you don't know," Frank assured him. "You ready to go?"
Nodding, Joe tapped the folder. "I went over all the newspaper clippings we've compiled on these pranks one more time," he told his brother. "Each time one is pulled off, it gets a little more serious."
"Right. The first one was just somebody spray-painting some dumb, smutty graffiti on the side of the school gym. Now, though, they've worked up to causing car crashes."
"Some of the pranks obviously took a few people to pull off. Last Thursday night there were two separate pranks — the smashed shop windows on Marcus Street and the eggs thrown at the Orange Hall across town. They took place at about the same time."
Frank said, "Maybe we can find out something by talking to the people out at the Cellar," he said. "It gives us a place to start. If one of the staff or customers noticed anyone or anything in the parking lot, we'd finally have a lead."
Joe stared at his brother. "So you want to go back to the place where you have friendly chats with big, husky bouncers?"
Frank held up his forefinger. "Merely one," he answered. "And you're obviously forgetting how diplomatic and persuasive I can be."
"Right, I was forgetting." Joe stood up. "Okay, let's get going — "
"Don't tell me you two boys are actually thinking of going out in this storm?" Their aunt Gertrude was frowning at them from the doorway as she took off her apron.
"It's just a light drizzle, Aunt Gertrude," said Joe, smiling.
Lightning crackled just then and thunder rattled the windows. Joe sighed.
"No, it's a bad storm. You'll have another accident, for certain."
"That wasn't an accident, Aunt Gertrude," Frank reminded her. "Somebody deliberately fouled up Callie's tire."
"And look where the poor girl ended up — in the hospital."
"She's home now, and fine," he said.
"And didn't I hear both you boys sneezing just before dinner?"
Joe laughed. "We were trying out some different kinds of sneezing powder, Aunt Gertrude."
"It sounded like colds coming on to me. Of all the colds you can suffer from, there's none worse than a summer cold. So my advice would be to forget — "
The phone began ringing. "Maybe it's Biff," said Frank, picking up the receiver. "I've been trying to get in touch with him all day. Hello?"
The caller spoke in a muffled, anxious whisper. "Get over to the old Hickerson Mansion. Right now!"
"Who is this?" Frank said.
The voice cut him off. "Just show up there. The prank tonight is going to be worse — much worse!"
Chapter 4
Joe drove the van up the road along the cliffs over Barmet Bay. "We took a field trip to the Hickerson Mansion years ago," he said, watching the headlights cut two short swatches in the rain and fog. "But I don't remember much about the place." "Elias Hickerson was a big wheel around Bayport about a hundred and fifty years ago," Frank said. "He was a rich merchant. They say he built his mansion up here so he'd be the first to see his ships come into the harbor. Anyway, his family left the house to the town. It's full of Victorian furniture and is being kept
"Trust me," Frank said into the phone while scowling at his brother. "I'll fill you in on anything we dig up. Sure, of course, I'm sorry you have to stay home and rest up tonight. But, Callie, that's better than staying in the hospital another day, isn't it?"
Joe discovered a fleck of apple skin caught between two of his front teeth and began digging for it with the nail of his little finger.
"I miss you, of course. Right. Me, too. Yes, he is. Uh-huh, sitting right here and gawking at me in his usual dimwit way. I'll tell him. Good night, Callie." Frank hung up and gave his brother a look. "Remind me to explain 'invasion of privacy' to you someday, Joe."
"How's she doing?"
"Better. But her doctor wants her to take it easy for a couple more days."
"What'd she tell you to tell me?"
"It's best you don't know," Frank assured him. "You ready to go?"
Nodding, Joe tapped the folder. "I went over all the newspaper clippings we've compiled on these pranks one more time," he told his brother. "Each time one is pulled off, it gets a little more serious."
"Right. The first one was just somebody spray-painting some dumb, smutty graffiti on the side of the school gym. Now, though, they've worked up to causing car crashes."
"Some of the pranks obviously took a few people to pull off. Last Thursday night there were two separate pranks — the smashed shop windows on Marcus Street and the eggs thrown at the Orange Hall across town. They took place at about the same time."
Frank said, "Maybe we can find out something by talking to the people out at the Cellar," he said. "It gives us a place to start. If one of the staff or customers noticed anyone or anything in the parking lot, we'd finally have a lead."
Joe stared at his brother. "So you want to go back to the place where you have friendly chats with big, husky bouncers?"
Frank held up his forefinger. "Merely one," he answered. "And you're obviously forgetting how diplomatic and persuasive I can be."
"Right, I was forgetting." Joe stood up. "Okay, let's get going — "
"Don't tell me you two boys are actually thinking of going out in this storm?" Their aunt Gertrude was frowning at them from the doorway as she took off her apron.
"It's just a light drizzle, Aunt Gertrude," said Joe, smiling.
Lightning crackled just then and thunder rattled the windows. Joe sighed.
"No, it's a bad storm. You'll have another accident, for certain."
"That wasn't an accident, Aunt Gertrude," Frank reminded her. "Somebody deliberately fouled up Callie's tire."
"And look where the poor girl ended up — in the hospital."
"She's home now, and fine," he said.
"And didn't I hear both you boys sneezing just before dinner?"
Joe laughed. "We were trying out some different kinds of sneezing powder, Aunt Gertrude."
"It sounded like colds coming on to me. Of all the colds you can suffer from, there's none worse than a summer cold. So my advice would be to forget — "
The phone began ringing. "Maybe it's Biff," said Frank, picking up the receiver. "I've been trying to get in touch with him all day. Hello?"
The caller spoke in a muffled, anxious whisper. "Get over to the old Hickerson Mansion. Right now!"
"Who is this?" Frank said.
The voice cut him off. "Just show up there. The prank tonight is going to be worse — much worse!"
Chapter 4
Joe drove the van up the road along the cliffs over Barmet Bay. "We took a field trip to the Hickerson Mansion years ago," he said, watching the headlights cut two short swatches in the rain and fog. "But I don't remember much about the place." "Elias Hickerson was a big wheel around Bayport about a hundred and fifty years ago," Frank said. "He was a rich merchant. They say he built his mansion up here so he'd be the first to see his ships come into the harbor. Anyway, his family left the house to the town. It's full of Victorian furniture and is being kept
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