The children met their grandfather at the Greenfield Diner for dinner. The place was bustling with customers. The air was filled with the hum of conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the wonderful scent of many different meals.
Sitting in their favorite booth, the Alden children gave their grandfather the details of this latest mystery. Meanwhile, they only picked at their dinners. Grandfather soon gave up hope that his grandchildren would show much interest in food while they were working on this case. Benny didn’t even order dessert!
“Too bad we don’t have Mr. Finch’s cell phone number,” Henry said. “I’m sure he carries it with him wherever he goes.”
“We’ll have to tell Ms. Connally what’s happening,” Jessie said. “We should stop over there before we go home tonight to give her an update.”
“And then what?” Violet asked.
No one had an answer to that. They all fell silent.
Benny had been listening quietly, munching on his chicken strips and sipping his milk. But then something caught his attention from the other side of the room.
“Hey,” he said in a whisper, “look over there!”
He pointed to a man sitting in a small booth by himself, drinking coffee.
“What?” Henry asked. “That man?”
“No, the bag!”
There was a brown leather bag on the other seat. It was very handsome and looked expensive.
“What about it?”
“Look at the initials, near the top!”
Sure enough, embroidered right into the leather just under the zipper, were the initials ‘GXF.’ All at once, the Aldens remembered Mr. Finch’s full name: Gilbert Xavier Finch!
“Oh my goodness!” Violet gasped. “Do you really think …?”
“How many other people have those initials?” Jessie said. “A middle name that begins with X?”
The children studied the man carefully. He was dressed in a navy blue T-shirt with long sleeves, plus blue jeans and a pair of well-worn work boots. He had dark hair with flecks of silver, and he looked as though he hadn’t shaved in a few days.
As he took another sip from his coffee, the waitress came over and asked if he wanted anything else. He shook his head and took his wallet from his pocket. The waitress left the bill on the table, and the man set a five-dollar bill on top of it. Then he got up, taking the bag with him.
“Well, if we want to find out, we’d better move fast,” Henry said.
The children filed out of the booth, followed by their grandfather.
Outside, the man paused for a moment to put on a pair of glasses.
“Excuse me, sir?” called Jessie.
The man turned suddenly, surprised to see the Aldens. “Yes?”
“I know this is going to sound like a strange question,” Henry said, smiling, “but may I ask if that’s your bag?”
Now the man smiled back. “No, it isn’t. Er … how did you know that?”
“We think it may belong to a friend of ours,” Violet said. “Did you find it on a train, by any chance?”
The man looked even more surprised, and also a little bit impressed. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did.”
“On train number sixteen?” Jessie added.
Now the man laughed. “Yes, that’s exactly right. It just so happens that I’m the engineer!”
The children looked at each other. Now they were getting somewhere!
“And was the bag … on the fourth car?” Benny asked him. “The one that was supposed to be closed?”
The man nodded. “Indeed it was, young man.”
“So Gilbert Finch was there,” Violet said. “He must’ve been the person who jumped off!”
Henry explained the rest of the story. “And we thought Mr. Finch might’ve been in that fourth car.”
“I guess he was,” the engineer commented. He slid the bag off his shoulder and handed it over to Henry. “I found this in the overhead luggage rack of the fourth car. When I do find something valuable and I can’t find the owner, I then have to report it. That means I have to fill out all these boring forms and stuff.” He rolled his eyes. “Not much fun at all. So if you can return the bag to Mr. Finch, that would be great.”
“We sure will,” Jessie said. “Thanks.”
Back at the library, the children told Ms. Connally everything they knew so far. Then they set Mr. Finch’s bag on a table in one of the back rooms and unzipped it.
“I feel weird going through it,” Violet said. “I’m sure it has some of Mr. Finch’s personal things in here.”
“But there might also be something that helps us find him,” Jessie pointed out.
On the top layer, the children found several copies of his books, mostly his new one. Underneath that, a cell phone charger, some clothes, and a leather bag with a toothbrush, shampoo, and other toiletries inside. And under that was a small notepad.
Jessie opened the notepad and began reading.
“Anything important?” Henry added. “Any clues?”
“Hmm—Food shopping on Thursday … Do laundry on Friday … Booksigning up in Clearwater on the fifth of June … Fix that broken window on the second floor …” Jessie sighed. “Not very interesting.”
“That’s it?” Violet asked.
“There’s one more page,” She said, flipping to it. “Might need new dining room table … Have someone mow the back lawn … What should I do about …”
“What is it?” Henry said.
“Okay, this might be a clue—it says, What should I do about Van Buren?”
“So we’re back to him again,” Violet said.
“You know what?” Henry said. “We should go through the library’s catalog to see if we can find any information on Mr. Van Buren and Mr. Finch. You know—newspaper or magazine articles, maybe something on the Internet. We need to know more about this strange connection.”
“Good idea,” Jessie agreed. “Maybe we can figure out why Mr. Van Buren’s name keeps coming up.”
The children began to look through the library for any information they could find. After about an hour, they had gathered a small stack of newspapers and magazines. They each took a few and began going through them.
“According to this article,” Violet said,” Mr. Finch loves animals. It says he has given lots of time and money to various animal charities, and that he has kept dozens of pets through the years. It also says he refuses to eat any kind of meat. Only fruits, vegetables, and—listen to this—granola bars!”
Jessie nodded. “It had to be him in the fourth car of the train.”
“In this magazine,” Henry told them, “it says he sometimes likes to write in what he calls a ‘secret country hideaway’. But he refused to tell the writer of the article where it was. He would only say that ‘… it used to be a big old barn, painted red. It has since been repainted white with black shutters and now looks quite lovely. I go there every now and then because it’s so quiet and peaceful out there in the country?’”
“What about his relationship with Mr. Van Buren?” Violet asked. “Anything about that?”
“Yes,” Jessie said, “I think I found something. In this article, Mr. Finch said, ‘I’m thrilled my books are doing so well. As long as they do better than Daniel Van Buren’s, I’ll be happy.’”
“In this interview,” Henry added, picking up a printout of an Internet article he’d found, “Mr. Van Buren said, ‘I’m glad my readers enjoy what I write so much. As long as they stay away from that silly stuff Gilbert Finch comes up with, they’ll be okay.’ ”
“In this one,” Violet went on, “Mr. Finch says, ‘There are two types of books a youngster can read—good ones, and those that are like Daniel Van Buren’s.’”
Benny said, “Wow, they don’t like each other very much, do they.”
“Apparently not,” Jessie said. Then she noticed it was nearly eight o’clock. “We’d better get going,” she told them. “Grandfather is expecting us.”
When the children got home, they found a surprise waiting for them.
“I came in and saw the light blinking,” Grandfather explained as he stood by the answering machine in the kitchen. “At first I thought it was a message from all of you. I quickly realized I was wrong. Listen—”
He hit the PLAY button, and out came one of the strangest messages the Alden family had ever heard. There was so much noise Henry turned the volume all the way up and still only a few words could be understood.
“Let you know … had no choice but to … he jumped off … lost in Allerton … terrible storm … going to Mr. Beans … soon as possible …”
And there the message ended.
“It’s Mr. Finch!” Benny shouted.
Jessie looked closely at the little screen on the answering machine.
“The call came in at 10:32—over six hours ago!” she said.
“And we’ve been out all day,” said Henry, “No wonder we didn’t know about it.”
“Oh my goodness, I hope he’s all right!” Violet said.
“Why don’t we try calling his cell phone now?” Henry suggested.
“I thought we didn’t have the number,” Jessie pointed out.
Henry nodded. “It should be there on the answering machine, on the caller ID.”
Jessie looked down and saw it. “Oh yeah. Good thinking!”
She tapped in the number and waited. Everyone else watched her, holding their breath.
After a few moments, Henry said, “Is he answering?”
Jessie shook her head. “No, it goes right to his voice mail.”
“It doesn’t even ring?” Violet asked.
“No.” Jessie let out a long sigh. “Looks like this mystery is getting thicker rather than thinner.”
“He said he was going to a ‘Mr. Bean’s,’ didn’t he?” Jessie asked.
“That’s what I heard,” Violet answered. “But who’s Mr. Bean?”
No one knew.
“And what town did he say he was in?” Henry wondered. “Allerton? That must’ve been where he jumped off. I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s about fifty miles up north,” Grandfather said. “It’s a nice little place. I’ve driven through it a few times. Very quiet.”
Violet’s face lit up. “Oh my goodness! Allerton! I’ve seen that name before!”
“You did? Where?”
She paused for just a moment to think about it one more time and make sure she was right. Then she looked at the others.
“I saw it in one of the articles we found at the library,” she said. “It’s where Daniel Van Buren lives!”
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