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- Ann M. Martin
Karen's Spy Mystery
Karen's Spy Mystery Read online
The author gratefully acknowledges
Diane Molleson
for her help
with this book.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
1 Downtown Stoneybrook
2 My Little House
3 Nancy’s News
4 Pokey
5 Karen Brewer: House-sitter
6 Silver and Gold
7 The Spy Notebook
8 The Woman in Black
9 “Hannie, You Have to Believe Me!”
10 Bill Barnett
11 The Junior Detective Kit
12 An Important Clue
13 Bill Comes to Dinner
14 Dark Glasses
15 Lunchtime Spy
16 To Catch a Thief
17 The Secret Password
18 A Matter for the Police
19 Calling Seattle
20 Congratulations to the Ace Detective
About the Author
Also Available
Copyright
Downtown Stoneybrook
“It does so look like a tree,” my brother Andrew said. He held up his drawing so Nancy and I could see it better. “See, this part is the trunk.” Andrew pointed to some squiggly black lines. “And this is the tree.” Andrew put his thumb on the green and red scribbles. My brother Andrew is four going on five. I am seven. And my name is Karen Brewer.
“What is the red for?” Nancy asked. Nancy Dawes is one of my best friends.
“Those are apples growing on my tree,” Andrew answered proudly.
“Oh,” said Nancy. She was quiet after that. So was I. I did not want to hurt Andrew’s feelings.
We were drawing at the dining room table because it is the biggest table in the little house. (I have two houses, a big one and a little one. I will tell you more about them in awhile.)
We were inside because it was too hot to play in the yard. It was July — the hottest month of the year.
“Would you like a snack?” Mommy called from the kitchen, where she was making lemonade.
“Sure,” I replied. Andrew nodded. Nancy grinned. Mommy is usually at work during the day. But she had to take the afternoon off because Merry, our nanny, needed to go to the dentist.
Soon Mommy came into the dining room with a big pitcher of lemonade, a plate of cookies, and four glasses. The glasses were full of ice. Thank goodness. It was hot even in the house.
Mommy poured the lemonade, then went back into the kitchen. She said she had to make a phone call.
I drank two glasses of lemonade. Then I felt better. “You know what I am doing this summer?” I asked, waving my half-eaten cookie in the air.
Nancy looked at me. “What?”
Andrew did not even look up. He was too busy eating. He already knew my news anyway.
“I have a job helping Mommy,” I said proudly.
“You do?” Nancy’s eyes were wide.
“Yes, I am going to be polishing and wrapping bracelets,” I announced. (Mommy works in a crafts center making the most beautiful jewelry.) “She has a big project that she has to finish by the end of this month.”
“And Mommy is paying her,” Andrew added. Andrew was very impressed with my job. He was also a little upset he could not work for Mommy.
Mommy walked back into the dining room. “Can’t I work for you too?” Andrew asked. He had been asking Mommy that question a lot, ever since Mommy had told me about my job the night before.
“You can when you are older,” answered Mommy.
Andrew did not look too happy.
“What will you do with all the money you make?” Nancy asked me. “Do you think you should open a bank account?”
Nancy’s father is the president of a big bank in town. That is probably why she thought of that. I had been thinking of putting the money in my piggy bank. But a bank account sounded much more grownup.
“What an excellent idea,” said Mommy. “What do you think, Karen?”
“Would a bank account be better than my piggy bank?”
“Much better.” Nancy sounded very sure about this. “Your money would be safer.”
“I guess so,” I said. “Would it be my very own account?”
“Yes, we could open an account in your name,” said Mommy.
“Can we do it now?” I wanted to know. “At Nancy’s father’s bank?”
Mommy laughed. “We should wait for Seth.” (Seth is my stepfather.) “When he comes home, we can all go downtown together and have dinner afterward to celebrate. You can come with us too, Nancy. The bank is open late tonight.”
“Yes!” I shouted. I did not think I could wait for Seth. But it turned out I had a lot to do to get ready. Nancy told me I would need some money to open my account. We went up to my room and took some quarters out of my piggy bank. Then we sharpened some pencils and put them in my backpack because Nancy said I would need to fill out some forms.
Before long, we were in the car on our way to the Stoneybrook Savings Bank. Nancy could not come with us because her mother needed her at home. But before she left, I thanked her for her great idea.
* * *
Stoneybrook Savings Bank is in a big, gray building. Andrew and I usually like to chase each other around the huge lobby. But today I decided we should act more grownup. I tried to be patient while we waited in line. When it was finally our turn, Mommy and Seth did most of the talking. Boo and bullfrogs!
The lady helping us was named Cynthia. She told me she was a personal banker — my personal banker. She gave me some forms to fill out. I took out my pencils, but Cynthia told me I should write in pen. I was signing my name very carefully when Mr. Dawes walked by. He waved when he saw me and said, “Hello, Karen.”
“You know Mr. Dawes?” asked Cynthia.
“Oh, yes,” I said.
Cynthia looked impressed. I handed the forms back to her and stood up very straight. I now had my own bank account. And the president of the bank had talked to me!
“Now can we eat?” asked Andrew.
“Sure,” said Seth. “Where would you like to go?”
“Pizza Express!” we cried. Andrew and I are always in the mood for pizza.
We ordered the special with lots of pepperoni and cheese. I sank into the soft leather booth. I felt like a Very Happy — and Very Important — Person.
My Little House
We stayed at Pizza Express for a long time. It was almost dark when we came home, but Mommy had left some lights on in the little house. As we drove up the driveway, I could see into my room. My stuffed cat, Goosie, was on my bed. My favorite drawings hung over my desk. Clothes and books were everywhere. My little-house room looked a little messy. But, you know, my big-house bedroom always looks a little messy too.
I think it is time for me to tell you about my two houses.
First of all, I did not always live in two houses. When I was very little, Andrew and I lived in the big house with Mommy and Daddy here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. Then Mommy and Daddy began fighting — at first a little, and then a lot. Finally they got a divorce. (That means they are not married to each other anymore.) Mommy, Andrew, and I moved out of the big house to a little house. That is the house I am in now. Daddy stayed at the big house. After all, it is the house he grew up in.
Then Mommy married Seth Engle. Now he is my stepfather. He came to live with us in the little house. And he brought his cat, Midgie, and his dog, Rocky, with him.
Then Daddy married a woman named Elizabeth Thomas. That made Elizabeth my stepmother. Elizabeth and all her children came to live with Daddy in the big house. Her children are Sam and Charlie, who are so old they go to high school; Kristy, who is thirteen and the best stepsister ever; and David Michael, who i
s seven like me. They are my stepbrothers and stepsister.
Then Daddy and Elizabeth adopted Emily Michelle from a country called Vietnam. Emily is two and a half. (I love her so much that I named my pet rat after her.)
There were so many people at the big house that Nannie, Elizabeth’s mother, moved in to help take care of everyone. Nannie also helps out with the pets. There is a puppy named Shannon, a kitten named Pumpkin, our fish, Andrew’s pet hermit crab, and my rat, Emily Junior.
Andrew and I spend every other month with Mommy in the little house. We live with Daddy during the other months.
I made up special nicknames for Andrew and me. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. (I thought up those names after my teacher read a book to our class. It was called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang.) Andrew and I are two-twos because we have two of so many things. We have two houses, two families, two mommies, two daddies, two cats, and two dogs. Plus I have two stuffed cats who look exactly alike. Goosie lives at the little house. Moosie stays at the big house. I even have two pairs of glasses. The blue ones are for reading. The pink ones are for the rest of the time. Andrew and I have two sets of clothes, books, and toys. This way, we do not need to pack much when we go back and forth.
I even have a best friend near each house. Nancy lives next door to Mommy. Hannie Papadakis lives across the street and one house down from Daddy. Nancy, Hannie, and I call ourselves the Three Musketeers because we do everything together. We are even in the same class at school. (But we do not have school now because it is July.)
The door to my little house is painted red. As soon as Seth unlocked it, I could hear the phone ringing. Mommy ran to answer it.
“Karen, it’s for you,” Mommy called.
For me? Who was calling this late? Could it be someone calling about my bank account? I raced to the phone.
“It is Nancy,” Mommy told me. “She says she has something very important to tell you.”
Nancy’s News
“Karen, guess what,” Nancy said when I picked up the phone.
“What?”
Nancy did not say anything for a long time. “What?” I repeated.
“I am going away,” Nancy finally said.
“You are?” (This was a surprise.) “Where are you going?”
“To Seattle.” Nancy sounded excited.
“Seattle? That is on the other side of the country.”
“Yes. My dad has to go there for business, and he is taking us. We will stay in Seattle for ten days, then maybe go camping in the mountains.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks!” I shrieked. That seemed like forever.
“I promise I will send letters and postcards,” Nancy said. “I will tell you everything I am doing.”
“I will write too,” I promised. (I am very good about writing letters. I write to Maxie, my pen pal in New York, and to my grandmother in Nebraska.) Still, that was not the same as having Nancy around.
“Does Hannie know?” I asked.
“Yes. She was a little upset too.”
“Of course she was. We do everything together.”
“I know,” Nancy said. She sounded sort of sad too. Then Nancy reminded me that I had been gone a long time when I went to Chicago.
“That is true,” I said. (I went to Chicago when Mommy, Seth, and Andrew moved there because of Seth’s work. They were there six months, but I came home after only a month. I was very homesick.)
“Anyway, Karen, when you came back, we were still best friends. Nothing changed.”
“I know nothing will change,” I said.
“My parents are looking for someone to take care of the house while we are gone.” Nancy seemed to want to change the subject. “They will pay someone to live here.”
“Really?”
“Well, someone is going to have to water all of my mother’s plants, mow the lawn, and repair anything that breaks while we are gone.”
“Hmmm,” I said to show Nancy I was listening. I was getting a brilliant idea.
“The house-sitter will also have to take out the garbage and the recycling,” Nancy added.
“Taking out the garbage is my job at home,” I said. “I am also very good at weeding.” I said this hoping Nancy would tell me that I would be a great house-sitter. But she did not. Instead she started talking about what she should pack.
I interrupted. “Nancy,” I began, “I think I would be a perfect house-sitter.”
Nancy did not say anything, so I kept talking. “I live right next door. I can watch your house and make sure nothing happens to it.”
“That is true,” said Nancy. She did not sound too sure, though. So I went on to tell Nancy how Seth could help me fix things around her house. (I had not talked to Seth about this. But I was sure he would help me.)
Before we hung up, Nancy said she would ask her parents if I could be their house-sitter. I really hoped they would say yes.
* * *
“I know I cannot live by myself in Nancy’s house,” I said to Mommy when she was tucking me in for the night. “But I live next door. I can be just as responsible as someone who is living there.”
“I suppose you could,” said Mommy. She bent down to kiss me good night.
“Besides,” I said, “I could put the money I earn into my new bank account.”
Mommy laughed.
Pokey
The next day, Saturday, I woke up early. I wanted to go over to Nancy’s house right away. But I had to eat breakfast first. Then I had to get dressed. Who would hire a house-sitter dressed in pajamas and fuzzy pink slippers?
I thought very hard about what I should wear. I wanted Nancy’s parents to think I was grown-up and responsible. I found my turquoise party dress on the floor of my closet. It was a little wrinkled, but I put it on anyway. My white tights were behind my bookcase. Usually I wear tights only when it is cold. But this was a special occasion. I pulled my black patent-leather shoes from under my desk. I tied my ponytail with a turquoise bow.
“Are you going to a party?” Andrew asked when he saw me.
“No. I am applying for a job as a house-sitter next door.”
“You look wonderful, Karen,” said Mommy. “But you will have to be careful in those fancy clothes. And remember, Nancy’s parents are not going to decide whether to hire you based on what you are wearing.”
Maybe Mommy was right. I looked down at my patent-leather shoes. I did not want to scuff them. And I was already too hot in my tights.
I could change after my interview, I thought. But then I decided to change right away. I put on shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals. I felt much better. And Mommy told me I looked wonderful in my play outfit too.
“Hello, Karen,” said Nancy when she answered the door.
“Did you talk to your parents?” I asked. I could not wait to find out if I had the job.
“Yes. They want to see you,” Nancy answered. I followed Nancy to her family room. Mr. Dawes sat on the couch reading the paper. Mrs. Dawes was playing with Danny, Nancy’s baby brother, on the floor.
“Good morning,” I said politely.
“Good morning, Karen,” said Mr. Dawes. He put down his newspaper. “I hear you are wondering about the house-sitting job.”
I nodded.
Mr. Dawes had some bad news. He and Mrs. Dawes said they were very sorry, but I was not the house-sitter they had in mind.
“We need an adult,” Mr. Dawes explained. “You cannot live here by yourself.”
“We are going away for so long, we really need someone who can mow the lawn and handle anything that goes wrong,” added Nancy’s mother.
“I could take care of your yard,” I said. “I am very good at gardening. Mommy says so.”
“I know you are, Karen,” said Mrs. Dawes. “You will be an excellent house-sitter when you are old enough to stay here by yourself.”
There was nothing I could say that would change thei
r minds. I gave up trying when Mr. Dawes said he had already hired somebody else: a man named Bill Barnett, who worked at the bank. Boo and bullfrogs. I was very disappointed.
“Come on, Karen, let’s play,” said Nancy.
I shrugged. I did not feel like playing.
Then Nancy’s mother said we could play in the study if we wanted to listen to music and dance. As soon as I heard the word dance, I cheered up a little.
Nancy and I spent a long time listening to our favorite CDs. And we made up our very own dances. I called my dance the shaker because I shook every part of my body. Nancy named her dance the snake because she slithered on the floor. (I thought her dance was too hard to do.)
Then we listened to a tape of Nancy playing the clarinet. (Nancy is an excellent clarinet player. She plays in the band at school.)
“I recorded that tape myself,” said Nancy proudly. She showed me the Daweses’ fancy tape player. The microphone was next to the cassette player. “You just put in a blank tape, set this knob to ‘microphone,’ ” said Nancy, “and press ‘record’ and ‘play’ at the same time.”
“Cool,” I said. “Let’s make a tape of ourselves singing ‘Sisters.’ ” So we did.
After lunch Mr. Dawes said we could play with some brand-new software on his computer. I used it to design a cool poster. It showed two ballerinas dancing. “One is doing the snake, the other the shaker,” I said.
Nancy laughed. She loved my poster and wanted to print it. But we did not know how. Nancy told me that we could not play around with the computer trying to find out how to print because her dad uses it for work. “Did you know that my father can look in his files at the bank?”
“With this computer?” I asked.
Nancy nodded. “He can go to work without leaving our house!”
“Can anyone get into the bank’s files?” I asked. I was worried about my brand-new account.
“Oh, no,” Nancy answered. “You need a secret password. Only my dad knows it. He will not even tell me what it is.”
That was a relief.
“Nancy, it is time for Pokey to get his eyedrops,” Mrs. Dawes called. (Pokey is Nancy’s kitten. He is one of the most well behaved cats I know.)