The Pizza Mystery Read Free Page B

helped the children bring their belongings to the little apartment above the restaurant. “It will be good to hear footsteps overhead when I’m working,” Mr. Piccolo told the Aldens. “It’s been too quiet since Nick moved out.”
    â€œI like this cozy apartment,” Violet said when she looked around the sunlit rooms. “But I liked it better when Nick lived here.”
    â€œRemember all those wonderful stories he told us?” Benny asked.
    â€œAnd the time he helped us build a snowman,” Henry added.
    â€œI miss Nick, too,” Jessie said. “Where did he move?”
    Mrs. Piccolo sighed. “He didn’t tell us. He just left. Now that he’s gone, I hope you children will fill these rooms with noise!”
    â€œWe will!” Benny yelled, and everyone laughed.
    â€œPlease get anything you want from the restaurant kitchen, anything at all,” Mrs. Piccolo said.
    After the Piccolos went to their own house a few blocks away, the children settled in. They dusted and scrubbed. They laid out their sleeping bags on the beds and the sofa. They covered the kitchen table with a cheery red-and-white tablecloth.
    When they were finished, Henry put on his jacket. “I’m going to get the bike and take a ride over to the gas company. I know Mr. Piccolo said that someone from Mighty Mufflers called the gas company to get the broken line fixed. But what if they forgot? You know what Grandfather always says. Double check to make double sure.”
    â€œWell, come back hungry,” Jessie told Henry as he zipped up his jacket. “Hungry for pizza!”
    â€œI wouldn’t count on it, Jessie,” he said quietly. “Not today anyway. I don’t think the gas company could fix the broken gas line so fast. But I’ll do my best.”
    â€œAnd I’ll do mine,” Jessie said. She gave her brother a big smile. She had a plan, and when Jessie Alden had a plan, nothing could stop her.
    â€œAll this talk about pizza makes me hungry,” Benny said. “I didn’t eat very much before. The pizza just wasn’t the same.”
    Jessie didn’t seem to hear Benny. She was staring at the small electric stove in the kitchen. She was thinking about pizza, too. “Violet,” she said, “you and Benny go downstairs. Mrs. Piccolo said we could help ourselves to anything. Bring up two bags of pizza dough, some of her homemade sauce, and two blocks of mozzarella cheese. Then come right back up.”
    Violet and Benny got going, but they weren’t too hopeful. They knew that the Piccolos’ big, hot brick oven was one of the secrets of their delicious pizza. The small apartment stove was good only for boiling eggs or making hot chocolate, not crispy pizza.
    But Jessie had thoughts of her own. She turned the oven dial. “There. Four hundred degrees should be hot enough.”
    By the time Benny and Violet came back with all the pizza fixings, Jessie had new jobs for both of them. First she showed Violet how to work cornmeal into Mrs. Piccolo’s dough. This would help it get crispy, even if it was baked in a small oven. Then she got Benny busy grating the soft mozzarella cheese into small piles. He gave Jessie a hungry look.
    â€œOkay, okay, Benny. Save a small pile of cheese for yourself,” Jessie told him. “Save the rest for our pizzas, all right?”
    â€œOh, goody!” Benny cried. “You just said ‘pizzas’ not ‘pizza.’ I could eat two big ones all by myself.”
    Jessie broke into a big smile. “Guess what, Benny? You might get to eat three or four pizzas! But not big ones—small ones. I figured out that the only thing wrong with the pizza Mrs. Piccolo made was that it was too big to bake in this oven.”
    Violet’s face lit up, too. “I get it! Small pizzas for a small oven. Then they should get hot and crispy enough! I guess the Piccolos have been too upset to