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
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
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