The Mysterious Cases of Mr. Pin Read Free

painted everything blue,” explained Maggie.
    Just then Mr. Pin noticed a white panel truck following close behind them. On the side of the truck were the letters B A K . The other letters were splattered with slush.
    The truck stopped. An elevated train rumbled overhead.
    â€œQuick,” said Mr. Pin. “Go up the stairs to the train. We’re being followed!”
    â€œWhat?” shouted Maggie.
    â€œHurry!” said Mr. Pin as he hooked a wing under her arm and pulled her up the steps.
    Sneakers squeaked up the stairs. The train screeched to a stop.
    As the train doors closed behind Maggie and Mr. Pin, a man wearing a parka over a long white apron pounded on the window. Mr. Pin and Maggie crouched behind a seat and held their breath until the train left the station.

    â€œWhew! That was close,” said Maggie.
    â€œYes, it was,” said Mr. Pin, adjusting his cap. “That man was the Picasso thief!”
    Mr. Pin and Maggie rode the train back and forth for a while to be sure the Picasso thief was no longer following them. Then they got off the train, walked down the stairs and over to Smiling Sally’s diner on Monroe Street.

3
    Smiling Sally’s was a friendly diner, open until midnight. Booths and a few tables and chairs were arranged on a black-and-white tile floor. Sally stood behind the curved counter, spinning cups in her hand and passing out hot cinnamon rolls to hungry truckers.
    â€œFood’s good and you meet interesting people,” she said to a new customer.
    Maggie and Mr. Pin stormed in. They waved to the truckers and hurried to Detective Pin’s headquarters in the spare room behind the kitchen. Sally brought them lunch, and then they got to work.
    â€œWe know the thief has something to do with chocolate,” said Mr. Pin, hopping back and forth.
    â€œRight,” said Maggie.
    â€œWe were followed by a white truck,” he added.
    â€œRight,” said Maggie.
    â€œThe letters B A K were written on the truck,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œRight,” said Maggie.
    â€œThe first three letters in bakery are B A K ,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œAnd the man following us was wearing a white apron,” added Maggie.
    â€œThe Picasso thief is a baker!” shouted Mr. Pin, hopping up and down.
    â€œRight!” agreed Maggie. “But how do we find Mr. Green Eyes before he finds us?”
    â€œWe have to find the bakery that has the same chocolate I found on the museum wall,” Mr. Pin said, chomping on a roll.
    â€œThere could be hundreds of bakeries in Chicago. How do we find the right one?” asked Maggie.
    â€œSometimes you have to eat to catch a thief,” said Mr. Pin.
    Maggie wasn’t going to argue with Mr. Pin. He had been right before, when he saved Smiling Sally’s diner from being blown up by gangsters. But that was another story.
    Just then a man wearing a trench coat and with a long hooked nose and black glasses opened the door. Maggie shivered.
    â€œI’m Jones,” he said. “O’Malley sent me.”
    â€œJust in time, Jones,” said Mr. Pin. “We’d like to visit a few bakeries.”

4
    Maggie and Mr. Pin were in Jones’s squad car, bouncing over potholes and mud puddles on sleet-covered streets. All of a sudden Mr. Pin ordered, “Stop the car!”
    â€œHe likes chocolate,” explained Maggie to Jones.
    Mr. Pin hopped out of the car and went into a German bakery filled with large tiered cakes. Mr. Pin’s beak went back and forth as he surveyed the cases of pastries. Then he settled on a nice German-chocolate cake with flaky coconut in the frosting.
    â€œDelicious” he said, hopping back into the squad car. His feathers were matted with sleet and chocolate frosting. “But I would like to try some chocolate-frosted doughnuts, please.”
    Jones sighed as he spun away from the curb. They drove from bakery to bakery, Mr. Pin sampling chocolate at every