Karen's Treasure Read online

  “I do not want anything to eat,” I announced. “All those stupid pennies made me lose my appetite.”

  Seth dished up the soup. It was steamy and smelled very good.

  “Are you sure you do not want some?” he asked. He passed me a bowl.

  “Maybe just a little,” I said. I ate it up quickly.

  “So let’s see those coins,” said Seth. “Let’s see the treasure that is not really a treasure.”

  I opened the metal box and dumped the coins onto the table. Seth picked up the coins one at a time.

  “These are old, all right,” he said. “Look at this one. The date on it is eighteen sixty-one.”

  “Wow,” said Kristy. “That was the time of the Civil War.”

  I did not care when it was. A penny was a penny. Seth turned the coin over in his fingers.

  “Karen,” he said, “I wonder if these coins are worth something. More than their original value.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “People buy and sell old coins,” Seth said. “I think we should take these to a coin shop and have an expert look at them. You might be able to sell the coins for a good price.”

  Seth took out the telephone book and paged through it.

  “You mean there is a store where they buy money?” I asked. This was turning out to be exciting after all. “Let’s go!”

  Seth found an ad for a coin shop and dialed the number. The man at the shop told us to come by.

  “Well,” Seth said to me when he hung up, “why don’t I drive Kristy home? Then you and I could go to the coin shop.”

  “Can I go, too?” asked Andrew.

  “You can stay here with me,” said Mommy. “You and I can read stories.”

  Andrew pouted. He stomped off to get some books. I was glad I was not four years old anymore.

  * * *

  The coin shop was very interesting. The man who worked there had lots of coins in glass display cases. Some were from other countries. Some were very old. The rarest coin he had was very old. It was from ancient Rome.

  “This coin passed through a lot of hands,” he said. “The hands of people who lived a long time ago.”

  “Ooh,” I said. That made me think about the penny in my box, the one from the time of the Civil War. Maybe a soldier had carried it to battle. Maybe it was a lucky penny and had saved him from getting killed.

  The man at the shop asked to see my coins. This time I did not dump them out. I set the metal box on top of the counter and opened the lid.

  “Hmm,” said the man. He picked up one coin after another. He flipped through a book, looking for information. Then he wrote down some numbers and made notes on a pad.

  “This collection is worth several hundred dollars,” he said when he had finished. “I would have to take a closer look to tell you exactly how much. Would you be interested in selling it to me?”

  Several hundred dollars! With that much money, I could buy lots of books. And plenty of presents for other people, too.

  “What do you think?” asked Seth. “Do you want to sell the coins?”

  I looked at the man. I looked at Seth. I thought of Henry Carmody, the boy in the short pants. Maybe he had buried the coins when he was about my age.

  “No,” I said firmly. “I do not want to sell them.”

  Henry Carmody

  Seth and I got back into the car. I hugged the metal box to me. After all, it was worth a lot of money.

  “So,” said Seth as he drove off. “You have decided to keep the coins after all.”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “The coins are not really mine to keep.”

  “Sure they are,” said Seth. “You found them, fair and square.”

  “Well,” I said, “I have been thinking. The coins really belong to Henry Carmody. If he was a child in nineteen thirty-five, he might still be alive. And he might want the money.”

  Seth stopped at a red light. He turned to look at me.

  “Karen,” he said, “that is a good idea. I am very proud of you for thinking of Henry.”

  “But how will I find him?” I asked.

  “We could look in the phone book,” said Seth. “We can do that as soon as we get home. Henry could still live in Stoneybrook.”

  When we pulled into the driveway, Andrew ran outside to greet us.

  “Where is the treasure? Where is the treasure?” he asked. “Did you sell it? Did you get a lot of money?”

  “It is right here,” I said. “But it is not ours.”

  “What?” Andrew stopped short.

  “It belongs to Henry.”

  I pushed past Andrew and headed inside. I took out the phone book and turned to the Cs. Hmm. The names and numbers were very small. They were hard to read.

  Seth turned the page to help me. “C-A-R-M-O-D-Y,” he said, spelling out the name. He ran his finger down the page.

  “Well,” he said. “There are no Carmodys listed in this book.”

  “Then the coins are ours,” said Andrew. “Right?”

  “Maybe he moved away,” said Seth. “This phone book is only for our town and a few of the towns nearby.”

  I called Kristy and told her what had happened. I told her that I had decided to give the coins to Henry Carmody.

  “The only problem is,” I said, “we cannot find Henry Carmody in the phone book. We do not know where he lives.”

  Kristy thought for a moment.

  “You will have to do more investigating, Chief,” she said.

  “But where will I look?”

  “On Monday I am coming over to babysit,” said Kristy. “We will go back to Stoneybrook Town Hall. Stuart can look up the Carmodys the same way he looked up the Barrows.”

  * * *

  As she had promised, Kristy took Andrew and me back to Town Hall.

  “We are back,” I told Stuart. “And we need more help.”

  Stuart looked up the records on the little house. The Carmodys had once owned it, but they had sold it in 1938.

  “Where did they go?” I asked.

  “We do not have that information,” he told me. “We only know that they sold the house and left.”

  Now what was I going to do? I had to find Henry and I had no more clues. Maybe Henry needed the money. Maybe he was alone somewhere, without any family to care for him. Maybe he was old and feeble. Maybe he was sick or starving. Kristy put her arm around me as we walked out the door.

  “I am sorry this did not work out,” she said.

  “Sometimes being a detective is very frustrating,” I said.

  “Well,” said Kristy, “I have another idea. Maybe Henry still lives in Connecticut, but in a town that is not near ours. The library will have a listing of all the phone numbers in Connecticut. Tomorrow we will go back and search through them.”

  “Good idea, Deputy!” I said.

  I was very lucky. Not every chief has a deputy who is as smart as Kristy.

  The Big Phone Call

  Kristy’s idea was better than good. It was excellent. That is because it worked! On Tuesday afternoon Kristy, Andrew, and I went to the library. Kristy picked out some books for Andrew to look at. Then she asked Mrs. Kishi to help us find the phone listings.

  “Can we find them on the computer?” asked Kristy.

  Mrs. Kishi checked her catalog.

  “Hmm,” she said. “There is a CD-ROM with that information. We have ordered it, but it has not come in yet. I am afraid the only way to look is the old-fashioned way.”

  I frowned. I was not sure what she meant.

  “The phone book,” said Mrs. Kishi. “We have all of the phone books for Connecticut. If you sit down, I will bring them to you.”

  Kristy and I found a table. Andrew sat in a chair next to us. He was reading a book called The Salamander Room, by Anne Mazer. The book is about a boy who brings home a salamander.

  “Can I have a salamander?” Andrew asked.

  “Sure,” I said. I was not really paying attention.
r />   “When?” asked Andrew.

  “Oh, Andrew,” I said, “We cannot worry about salamanders now. We have to find Henry Carmody.”

  Mrs. Kishi brought us a stack of phone books. Then she disappeared and came back with a second stack. Then a third.

  I slumped down in my chair. “Help!” I cried. “We are being buried by phone books.”

  “Do not worry,” Kristy assured me. “It will not take us long to search through them. We have to look up only one name in each book.”

  We did not find any Carmodys in the first book. Or the second. Or the third. I was beginning to think that Henry Carmody had disappeared. Maybe he had moved someplace far away. Maybe he had moved to China. Or to Paris, France.

  Finally we found a Carmody. But it was Lucille Carmody. In the next book, we got luckier. “Carmody, H.” it said.

  I copied down the number and snapped the book shut.

  “Great,” I said. “Now we can go home.”

  “Not yet,” said Kristy. “Maybe that is not the right H. Carmody. We need to go through all the books. That way we will find all the Carmodys in Connecticut.”

  Boo and bullfrogs! I wanted to call H. Carmody right away.

  “Be patient,” said Kristy. “We are almost through.”

  Hmm. Sometimes I am not very good at being patient.

  Finally we worked our way through all the books. We did not find any listings for Henry Carmody. But we did find another “Carmody, H.” Maybe one of the two was Henry. There was only one way to find out.

  “Back to the house,” said Kristy.

  As soon as we got home, I ran to the phone.

  “Wait a minute,” said Kristy. “Before you call, you should think about what you are going to say.”

  That was simple. “I will ask for Henry Carmody,” I said.

  “And then what?”

  Hmmm. “I will ask him if he ever lived in Stoneybrook, at Twelve Forest Drive. Then I will ask him if he ever buried a box of coins.”

  Kristy nodded. “Sounds good,” she said.

  I took a deep breath and dialed.

  The first H. Carmody was not Henry. It was a woman named Hannah Lee.

  “Do you know of a man named Henry Carmody?” I asked. Maybe Henry was her brother or her father.

  “No,” she said. “I am sorry. I do not know anyone named Henry.”

  Boo and bullfrogs. I hung up and dialed the second number. This time a man answered the phone. My heart started pounding.

  “May I please speak to Henry?” I asked.

  “This is Henry,” he said.

  I forgot all about staying calm.

  “Henry!” I cried. “I am so glad we found you. Kristy and I looked up your name in every Connecticut phone book. I did not know what I would do with the coins if I did not find you.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

  “And who is this?” he asked.

  Oh. I had not explained a thing about who I was or why I was calling. Oops. I cleared my throat. I would have to start over.

  “This is Karen Brewer,” I said more calmly. “I live at Twelve Forest Drive, in Stoneybrook. I know from the county records that you used to live here, too. Or at least someone named Henry Carmody did. Was that you?”

  “My goodness,” said Henry. “Indeed it was. Why, that was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, it was,” I said. “You moved away in nineteen thirty-eight. Anyway, a few weeks ago I found a treasure map stuck inside the wall in the dining room. It had your name on it. Do you remember making a treasure map?”

  “A treasure map?” he said. “No. I cannot say I remember anything of the sort.”

  “It was for coins,” I went on. “You buried them in the backyard.”

  “My goodness,” said Henry. “Coins, eh?”

  “The coins are worth money now,” I told Henry. “And they belong to you.”

  Henry was very surprised to hear my news. In fact, he was very surprised to hear from me at all.

  “What an adventurous girl you must be,” he said.

  “That is because I am a detective,” I explained.

  I told Henry I would ask my parents to call him when they got home. They would be able to get the coins to him. Then it was time to hang up.

  “Thank you very much for calling, Karen,” said Henry. “I certainly look forward to meeting you.”

  And I looked forward to meeting Henry. (I wondered if he still wore short pants with suspenders.)

  Visiting Henry

  On Sunday we drove to Henry’s house. The ride was very long. It took a whole hour.

  “Karen,” said Seth, “I have a good job for you. Your job is to keep all of us entertained while we are in the car.”

  “Okay,” I said. I am very good at keeping people entertained. “I know. We will play a game. The game will be called ‘I Wonder What Henry Is Like.’ Everyone has to guess.”

  “That sounds like fun,” said Andrew.

  “I will go first,” I said. I thought a moment about Henry and how old he must be. “I think he is very feeble now,” I said. “He has to use a cane. I bet the cane is carved from wood and has a silver elephant on top.” I thought that was a very good guess. “Now it is Seth’s turn.”

  “Well,” said Seth, “I think Henry has a beard. And I think he wears a pirate’s patch over one eye.”

  I frowned. Seth was not taking my game very seriously.

  “Mommy’s turn,” I said.

  “I think he has a big tattoo on one arm,” said Mommy. “And I think he has a parrot sitting on one shoulder.”

  “Mommy,” I said. “Please guess for real. This is not a joke.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “I guess that Henry wears wire-rimmed glasses. And I really do think he has a tattoo.”

  Finally it was Andrew’s turn. “I think Henry has a pet salamander,” he said. “And the salamander’s name is Andrew.”

  At last we got to Henry’s house. When Henry opened the door, I saw that he was nothing like I had guessed. He did not walk with a cane. And he did not have a beard or a pirate’s patch, as Seth had guessed. But guess what — Henry did wear wire-rimmed glasses. And Mommy was right — he did have a tattoo!

  Henry answered the door wearing a short-sleeved shirt. On his arm was a big tattoo of an anchor. Andrew’s mouth dropped open. He pointed to Henry’s arm.

  “Andrew likes your tattoo,” Mommy tried to explain.

  “Oh, that old thing,” said Henry. He laughed. “I got it when I was in the Navy, long years ago.”

  Henry invited us into his house. Inside, I saw that Henry was nothing like I had imagined. He was not poor. And he was not sick. And he was not all alone in the world. In his living room Henry had photos of the people in his family. There was a photo of his wife, Rose. (Henry said she had died nearly ten years earlier.) And there were photos of his four children — two boys and two girls. (Henry said that now they were grown men and women.) And finally Henry showed us photos of his six grandchildren.

  “Wow,” I said. “You have certainly been busy since you left Twelve Forest Drive.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “What about your salamander?” asked Andrew. “Do you have any pictures of him?”

  “Salamander?” asked Henry. He looked confused. “I am afraid I do not have a salamander. But I do have some snacks for you. Please sit down. We can have some juice and soda and chips with dip.”

  When Henry brought the snacks, we all sat down to talk. Henry turned to me.

  “After we got off the phone,” he said, “I remembered the coins you told me about. In those days I had a small collection, and I wanted to hide them from my little brother, Petey. He was eight and a huge pest. At least, I thought so at the time. So I wrote out the clues and drew the treasure map. Then I put the coins in a box and buried them. Several years later we moved away. I forgot all about the buried coins. In fact, I did not remember anything at all about them until you called.”

>   “Did you know the coins were valuable?” I asked him.

  “They were not so valuable at the time. My grandparents had given me a couple of old pennies — ”

  “One is from the time of the Civil War,” I said.

  “My goodness!” said Henry. “Was it that old? Most of the coins were probably ones I picked up at the time. Just everyday coins from the nineteen thirties.”

  “Even those are worth something now,” I told him.

  Henry shook his head and smiled. “Well, what do you know?” he said.

  I had brought the box of coins along. I walked to Henry and placed it in his hands. I cleared my throat importantly.

  “These coins are yours, Henry,” I said. “You buried them many, many years ago. And now they have come back to you. Oh, yes,” I said. “I almost forgot.”

  I pulled out the snapshot of Henry in his short pants.

  “Is this you?” I asked. “I found it in the attic.”

  Henry laughed. “I am afraid that is me,” he said. “I guess I have gotten a little older since then.”

  “And your pants have gotten longer,” I said.

  Henry opened the lid of the box and picked out one of the old, tarnished coins.

  “Karen,” he said, “thank you so much. You certainly are a very special young girl.”

  Henry’s Surprise

  After I presented the coins to Henry, my family and I drove back to Stoneybrook. A few days later, the doorbell rang. Seth was making a salad for dinner. Mommy was paying bills.

  “I’ll get it!” I cried. I ran to the window and peered out. “Henry!” I cried. I swung open the door.

  “Why, look at this house,” he said, peering around. “I have not seen this place since I was a kid.”

  “Come on in,” I said. I took Henry’s arm and pulled him into the living room. Mommy and Seth came out of the kitchen.

  “I do not want to interrupt your evening,” Henry said. “I just wanted to come by and drop off a little something for Karen.”

  “For me?” I said.

  “Yes. I hope you do not mind that I came by without calling, but I have a present for you.”

  Behind his back, Henry was holding a box. He pulled it out and handed it to me.