“Hey, there,” said Lucas when he reached them. “I thought you kids would be sitting in the bleachers.”
“Actually, our grandfather and our housekeeper are holding seats for us,” Jessie explained. “But we thought we’d stay down here and—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Lucas was a suspect. She didn’t know how he was connected to Al Stockton or Katya.
“And make sure nothing goes wrong for Katya?” Lucas concluded correctly. “It’s okay. I know you kids are Katya’s friends. And you think I might be one of the bad guys.”
“Well, you did ask a lot of questions the other day,” said Violet. “You made her nervous.”
“I’m a reporter,” Lucas explained. “I’m supposed to ask questions and find out facts.”
Benny nodded. “So are we. We solve mysteries.”
“And I’m part of the mystery, aren’t I?” Lucas guessed.
“How can we trust you?” Henry said to him.
Lucas spread his hands, as if showing he had nothing to hide. “I’m not really sure what’s going on around here, but your friend is involved in some way. Our buddy Al Stockton hasn’t taken a single photo of anyone else today. His camera is always aimed at Katya.”
Jessie looked over. Sure enough, Al was snapping pictures of Katya, who was sitting on the bench behind the vaulting horse. She and her teammates wore their warm-up suits and were sipping water.
“This is what I wanted to tell you,” Lucas said. “I bumped into Al yesterday when we were leaving the arena. It was an accident, but he yelled at me. Something about touching that big bag. He’s got it with him today, too.”
“It’s for storing extra rolls of film,” Violet said, noting the camera bag slung around Al Stockton’s neck.
“Maybe the guy is paranoid about it.” Lucas saw the American boys’ team was ready for their next event. “I’d better get back to work. Keep an eye on your friend.”
“Don’t worry,” said Jessie. “We will.”
Lucas hurried off, notebook in hand.
Henry turned to his brother and sisters. “I think we need to do a little background investigating. Right now.”
“On what?” asked Violet.
“On two newspaper employees.” Henry sorted through his pocket change for quarters. “Come on.”
They walked the length of the arena to the concession area. Floor music blared from loudspeakers as one group of gymnasts performed floor routines, while another group did balance beam sets, and yet another worked out on the rings.
“I don’t know how the gymnasts can concentrate,” Violet remarked, “with all this action going on around them.”
“They must be used to it,” said Jessie as they walked past a counter that sold hot dogs and nachos.
“I smell food,” said Benny, sniffing the air.
Violet giggled. “You just had breakfast!”
“I can eat a hot dog anytime,” he said.
Henry headed for the bank of telephones. Local phone books bound in metal covers were mounted beneath the row of phones. Jessie looked up the first number for him.
Henry punched it in. “Hello,” he said when someone on the other end answered. “Is Lucas Tripp there today?”
He paused, then said, “No, that’s okay. Thanks very much.” He hung up.
“Well?” prompted Violet.
“Lucas works at the Greenfield Times as a reporter, just like he told us,” Henry replied. “And he’s out on assignment, the secretary said.”
Jessie read off the second number and Henry punched it in. This time he asked, “Is Al Stockton there today?”
The pause was much shorter. Henry said thanks and carefully hung up the receiver.
“The receptionist at the Register has never heard of Al Stockton,” he said with excitement. “He’s never worked there a day in his life! Al Stockton is a phony!”
“We can scratch Lucas off our suspect list for now,” said Jessie. “But how do Al and Katya fit into this case?”
Benny pulled out the silver locker key. “Maybe this is the answer. I mean, I found it the day we got Katya at the airport. And Al Stockton was there, too.”
“Benny’s right!” said Violet. “We’re overlooking the most important clue of all! Katya flew to America from Russia. Al Stockton was on her flight from New York.”
“I’ll bet our mystery man also flew to New York from Russia,” Henry said, following his sister’s thinking. “As soon as Al got off the plane,” Henry continued, “he rented a locker. I think he brought something back from Russia to put in that locker.”
Benny waved the key. “And then he lost this.”
“Maybe he thinks Katya has the gold box,” Jessie said. “That’s why he keeps following her around! He wants it back. So he’s pretending to work for a newspaper.”
“So,” said a voice behind them. “You’ve found out the truth.”
Jessie jumped. But it wasn’t Al Stockton standing behind them.
It was Lucas Tripp.
“I—uh,” she stammered. Did they take Lucas off their suspect list too soon?
“I overheard Henry’s calls and part of your conversation just now,” the young man said, a little embarrassed. “Our pal Al isn’t employed at the Register after all. Good work! I should have looked into that myself days ago. It seems that while I’ve been so busy on this gymnastics story, a real mystery has been unfolding.”
Jessie breathed a sigh of relief. Lucas was okay. “The competition people would probably have kept Al out if they saw this unidentified guy taking pictures of Katya.”
“It’s not that hard to get a press pass,” Lucas said. “Especially if he’s worked for a paper somewhere else. Nobody questions a photographer with good credentials.”
“So what do we do now?” Violet wanted to know.
“Unfortunately, I’ve got to get back to that event I’m covering,” Lucas said, running his hand through his light hair. “I think you kids should make sure Al doesn’t do anything to upset Katya. And I’d like to hear more about that gold box you mentioned. I’ll see you later.”
He reluctantly hurried off once more.
“I think Lucas is okay,” said Jessie. “It looks like we’d better get moving. The teams in Katya’s class are heading for the balance beam.”
Sure enough, all the junior girls from various countries were settling in lines near the balance beam. Mrs. Patterson, score sheet under her arm, redid her daughter Denise’s hair, adding a fresh red ribbon.
Denise smiled at Katya and gave her the thumbs-up sign. Katya returned the signal.
“They’re wishing each other good luck,” Henry observed. “It’s nice they’re friends even though they are on opposite teams. I can’t believe Katya is mixed up in anything mysterious. She’s just so nice.”
“I know,” Jessie agreed.
Just then Mrs. Patterson said something to her daughter. Reluctantly, Denise faced forward, so she couldn’t see Katya.
“That woman acts like she’s running this competition,” Violet remarked. “How could it hurt Denise’s chances to smile at Katya?”
“That’s the way some mothers are, Katya told us,” Henry reminded them. “They take sports more seriously than their kids.”
“I think they are starting,” Violet said, noticing the coach lining up the first team to compete. “Let’s go over.”
As the Aldens left the concession area, they found themselves mingling with reporters, photographers, and other people moving toward the balance beam area. The difficult beam event always drew a large crowd.
Someone bumped into Benny, hard. He went down on one knee.
Henry was at his brother’s side instantly. “Are you all right, Benny?”
“I’m fine,” Benny said, staring at the floor. Big shoes that needed polishing were right in front of him.
A voice growled, “Look what you did!”
This time the voice belonged to Al Stockton. Now he was down on his knees, too, scooping scattered rolls of film and special lenses back into his camera bag.
“You made me drop my bag!” he complained. “If any of these lenses are cracked—”
“I’m sorry,” Benny said. “But you ran into me.” He tried to help by picking up loose photos that had slid from a side pocket.
“Leave those alone!” Al lunged for a sheaf of pictures in Benny’s hand.
“Take it easy,” Henry said, coming to his brother’s defense. “He’s only trying to help.”
“You kids are always getting in my way!” Al accused. “Now give me those pictures.”
Benny gave the man his pictures. But two slipped from the hastily gathered stack. They landed faceup on the floor.
Benny stared.
One picture showed a huge, beautiful mansion with a circular driveway in front.
The second picture was an indoor shot of a fancy living room. A vase of flowers stood on a table. Above the table was a portrait of a young girl. The girl wore a fancy-looking red dress. Her blond hair curled on her shoulders.
The girl looked exactly like Katya Ludskaya!
Al quickly snatched the pictures and stuffed them in his camera bag. “Next time,” he warned, “stay out of my way!”
Then he hurried off to the balance beam area.
Violet helped Benny up. “Honestly, that man is so rude. Are you okay?”
“Did you see the pictures?” Benny asked, his fall forgotten.
“I sure did,” Jessie answered excitedly. “The one of the house—I know where I’ve seen it before!”
“Where?” asked Henry. In the flurry of dealing with Al Stockton, he hadn’t gotten a good look at the two photographs.
“It’s the same house in the newspaper clipping that was in Katya’s letter from Russia!” Jessie declared.
“Why would Al Stockton have a picture of a Russian house in his bag? The same house that was in a newspaper clipping in Katya’s letter?” Henry inquired.
“Did you see the second picture?” Benny insisted.
Jessie nodded. “In it was a painting of a girl.”
“And the girl looked a lot like Katya!” Benny said.
Henry whistled. “Now things are really getting complicated. I bet the room in the second picture is in the mansion. And if the girl in the portrait is Katya, she obviously lives in the mansion.”
“So Katya is really a rich girl pretending to be a gymnast?” Violet asked.
Jessie shook her head. “I don’t think she’s pretending to be a gymnast. She’s too good. But if she’s rich, she wouldn’t need to live with an American family for this competition. Why is she staying with us?”
Benny thought he knew the answer. “To hide who she really is.”
Now they all looked over at the balance beam. Katya’s team wasn’t performing yet, but they would soon.
“We’ll have to wait until after the competition to find out Katya’s identity,” Henry said.
Violet stared at the black-haired man, who was watching Katya intently. “And so will Al Stockton.” |