The Case of the Missing Book (Part 2)

[If you missed Part 1 last week, you might want to go back and read that first.  Enjoy, and this one will be more exciting, I promise!]

“Well, here’s the address,” said Kurt.  “What was the name of that book again?”

“Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches,” replied Jack.  “We forgot to write down the author, but—”

“There can’t be more than one with that title,” finished Kurt.

“This looks like a place someone who read that book would live,” said Robbie.  He was referring to two large greenhouses in the backyard.  Even from a small distance, the boys could tell they were full of plants.

“We might have to search the greenhouses for it,” said Kurt.

“I doubt that,” observed Jack.  “He’s obviously into gardening, so he probably would have found it by now if it was in there.”

“He may have found it a few years ago,” pointed out Robbie, “and been scared off by whatever the fine was then.”

“Possibly,” said Jack.  “Before we do any looking, though, we should get permission from him first.”

“Should we try the front door or the greenhouse?” asked Kurt.

Jack picked the front door, and they walked up the sidewalk to the large, old-fashioned, three-story house.  He reached the door and knocked.

There was no answer after a minute, so he knocked again.  Still no answer.

“He may be in the greenhouses,” said Kurt.

“One of them,” said Robbie.  “He can’t be in both of them at the same time.”

“Do you really think I didn’t know that?” said Kurt, in mock anger.  “You’re just as bad as Emma when she’s been studying grammar.”

Jack laughed at the comparison to his little sister.  Emma could be a little annoying sometimes, but she was worth it.  That didn’t keep her out of the boys’ jokes, though.

“Let’s try the greenhouses,” he said.  Kurt knocked on the closest one to the house, and he wound up being right, for an old man dressed in overalls put down some trimmers (I’m not sure of the exact term) and walked over to the door of it.

“Yes, what can I do for you young fellows?” he asked.

“Are you Douglas Croft?” said Jack.

“That’s been my name for seventy-eight years,” replied the man, “and I don’t plan on changing it.”

Jack laughed.  “Mr. Croft, do you remember checking out a book titled Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches?”

“By William Head!” exclaimed a surprised Mr. Croft.  “Yes, I did read that book.  It’s what got me interested in building these greenhouses.  I knew I wanted to garden, but I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to do.  William Head had some great suggestions, and I took a lot of his advice while building it.  You’ve brought back pleasant memories, young man.”

It was Kurt who spoke next.  “Did you know you never returned it?”

“Never returned it?” said Mr. Croft.  “I never returned it?”

“According to their records, you’ve had it checked out for nineteen years,” said Jack.  “I and my friends figured someone who’d had something checked out for that long had probably lost it.  We’re detectives, so we’d be happy to try to find it for you, if you like.”

“The librarian told us that if we do find it, the fines will be waived,” said Robbie, handing over the statement.  Mr. Croft took the paper and read it over, eyes widening.

“I guess I did forget to return it,” he said.  “It was so long ago, I have no idea where it is now.  You’re welcome to check if you’d like.  I lived here back then, so it may be here somewhere.”

“Thank you,” said Jack.

“No, thank you,” said Mr. Croft.  “If I’d known it was still out, I’d have returned it long ago.  Follow me; I’ll show you where you might look.”

He led the boys out of his greenhouse and through the backdoor.  Taking them to a room at the front of the house, he said, “Most of my bookshelves are in there.  I may have put it there by mistake.

“Now, if it’s not on those bookshelves, it might be upstairs,” he said, leading them to the second floor.  “I have some books in here,” he said, opening the door to a small former bedroom.  “If you don’t find it in these places, let me know, and I’ll tell you where else you might check.”

“Thanks,” said Jack.  “This will give us plenty to start with.”

“Come get me if you need anything,” said Mr. Croft, heading back to the stairs.  “I’ll be in my greenhouse.”

When he had gone outside, Kurt said, “Look at all the books in here.  There are even more downstairs!”

“Well, this gives us a mystery to solve,” pointed out Jack.  “With the three of us looking, it won’t take too long to get through.  Let’s start in this room, since we’re already here.”

They got to work, each scanning the titles on a different bookcase.  There were four bookcases, total.  It didn’t take too long for them to finish with the first three, and they started the fourth.  It was then that Kurt made an important discovery.

“Uh-oh,” he said.  “There’s books behind the first row on this shelf.”

“Really?” said Jack. He pulled some out on the top shelf of this case.  “You’re right,” he said.  “This one’s that way.”

“Does that mean they’re all like that?” asked Robbie.  He pulled some books off a shelf on the bookcase he’d just searched.  “Oh, this one’s that way too.”

Progress slowed down after that.  Not only did the boys have to make sure they checked all the books in the back rows, they had to make sure there weren’t any in between or behind the second row.  They found four that had fallen out of rows, but none were library books.

Finally, they finished the room.  “Not here,” said Jack.  “Maybe we should have started with the downstairs room.  It sounds like that’s the main library in this house.”

Down the stairs they went, until they found the room Mr. Croft had initially showed them.  This room had eight bookshelves, each with two rows.  The bookcases were full, for the most part, and there were even more books that had gotten shoved in between rows, making this room even more difficult to search.  Robbie sneezed frequently as clouds of dust erupted when he pulled out long un-read books.

“Mr. Croft must have been quite a reader before he became a gardener,” Robbie remarked.

“I’ll say,” said Kurt.  “How many bookcases do we have to go?  Six?”

“You’re right,” said Jack, “plus the stacks on those endtables.”

“Those aren’t too big,” said Kurt.  “I’ll check them right now.”  It did not take him long to find out that the book was not on them.

“No wonder Mr. Croft can’t find the book,” said Jack.

The boys kept searching, though, and they finally got through the shelves…with no results other than lot of dust.  They’d made sure to leave the rows looking tidy when they’d finished, at least.

“What do we do now?” asked Robbie.

“Mr. Croft said he’d tell us where else we could look if we couldn’t find it on the shelves,” said Jack.  “Let’s go ask him.”

They went out to the greenhouse and caught Mr. Croft just finishing tending to some unusual variety of flower.  “The book might be in the attic,” said Mr. Croft.  “A lot of stuff I haven’t used for years goes up there.  I’ll show you where it is.”

He led the boys to the upstairs room they had just searched.  Then, he pulled the books off the edge of one of the shelves, about medium-high off the ground, revealing a knob.  Jack had seen it earlier, but he hadn’t touched it, more concerned about the whereabouts of the missing book.  Mr. Croft turned the knob, and the entire bookcase swung open, revealing stairs.

“That’s the attic,” said Mr. Croft.  “It might take you a while to search, because there’s a lot of stuff up there.  If you don’t want to finish today, let me know, and you can come back tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” said Jack.  “We’ll give it a try.”  As Mr. Croft went back outside, Jack started to lead his friends up the stairs.  It took a while because they had to search the stuff piled at the edge of each step.  Jack got a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Croft wasn’t kidding.

He was right.  The attic was covered with piles of what’s best described as stuff.  Old boxes, sheets covering stacks, bunches of odds and ends—it was the classic messy attic, complete with the classic amount of dust.

“This’ll take the classic amount of time to search,” observed Kurt.

“Get to work,” said Jack.  “Maybe we’ll find the book quickly and won’t have to search the whole attic.”

That was too optimistic.  Three hours passed.  The boys had found many things, some interesting, most boring.  There was only one thing they were looking for, though, and it wasn’t turning up.

Robbie opened a box and started pulling out its contents.  “Here’s a book!” he declared.  Then, his face fell.  “Not the right one.”

“At least you found a book,” said Jack.  “I haven’t yet.”

“You’re not looking in the right place,” said Kurt.  “I’ve found five books so far, none of them the right one.  Make that six,” he said.  “This isn’t it e—hey, wait a minute!  I found it!  Come here!”

Robbie dropped the box he had just picked up.  (It made a funny crashing sound as it hit the ground, but I don’t think he noticed.)  Jack straightened up and clambered over the piles of stuff as quickly as he could.  They ran over to where Kurt was and looked.

Kurt was holding a book.  It was not the right one.  But under the one he had just picked up was another book, titled   Gardening under Cover: A Northwest Guide to Solar Greenhouses, Cold Frames, and Cloches.  A peeling library sticker was coming off the side.

“That’s it!” said Jack.  “You want to do the honors, Kurt?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” said Kurt, grabbing the book.  He tugged.  The book shifted but didn’t come off the pile.  He tugged a little more.  Then, he tugged harder.

Suddenly, the book lifted off the pile.  As it did so, it shoved something under a white sheet up with it.  This eventually dropped off and fell back to the ground.  As it did so, the white sheet fell off, revealing a small metal object.  Several wires protruded from it, leading to a digital face with several red numbers on it.  The numbers were swiftly going down.

“What is that?” asked Robbie.  He gasped.  “Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s—” started Kurt.

“—a bomb!” finished Jack.  “And it’s set to go off in fifteen seconds!  Come on; we’ve got to get out of here.”

Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve—

The boys scrambled over the piles of stuff, heedless of any old racks that tipped over or crunches their feet made.

—eleven, ten, nine—

They reached the stairs.  Jack and Kurt charged down, followed by Robbie, who tripped about halfway down and fell the rest of the way.  “I’m fine!” he said, hopping up.  “Come on!”

—eight, seven, six, five—

The boys made it to the second floor staircase and started for the first floor.

—four, three—

“Hurry!” cried Jack.  “Where’s the door?”

“This way,” called Robbie, and they ran towards the back door.

—two, one—

Jack shoved open the door, and the boys jumped from the house.  They hit the ground and rolled until they hit the side of one of the greenhouses.  Bracing themselves, they waited for the explosion.

“Any luck?” came a voice.  Jack looked up.  It was Mr. Croft.

“Mr. Croft!” called Kurt.  “Get down!  There’s a bomb in the attic, and it’s set to go off any minute.”

Mr. Croft looked confused.  “A b—young man, did you just say a bomb?”

“Yes!” said Robbie.  “With flashing red numbers counting down the—”  He stopped, puzzled.  Was Mr. Croft—could he be—yes, he was!  Mr. Croft was laughing.  He started with a little chuckle that soon grew into a full-fledged laugh that had the old gardener down on his knees.  Five seconds elapsed before he could speak again.

“Young—ha, ha—young man,” he spoke between laughs.  “That’s a—that’s a—I got it for my kids, back in the ‘70s.  They used it for pranks all the time.  I didn’t realize it was still—ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“It was a fake bomb?” said Jack.  He looked up at the Croft residence, still perfectly intact.  “Oh, no!”

Oh, yes.  The three friends had made the flight of their lives, for nothing.  The house did not blow up, no fires started, no armies of fire engines came.  Up in the attic, the “bomb” calmly hit 0:00:00, flashed “BOOM” on the screen, then turned off.  Ah, well.  At least Mr. Croft had a funny story for his friends at the Tacoma Garden Club, the next time he saw them.

He would tell it, too!