where itâs coming from,â Tyler said suddenly.
âWhere?â Charlie asked.
Tyler shuddered and said, âThe basement!â
On the way downstairs in the elevator â this time, it was Brackâs â Charlie made a quick list on his notepad of the clues and questions they had.
âYou have the hunterâs gleam in your eye, Master Hitchcock,â said Brack. âDo I detect that you have solved the puzzle?â
âHe better have solved it,â muttered Tyler.
Charlie grinned and told Brack, âWell, Iâve solved at least part of it.â
Leaning in to look at Charlieâs list, the operator raised an eyebrow. âSo you have juggled all your clues and evidence together,â he said, âand thatâs why you are traveling to the basement?â
âWe always end up in the basement,â said Tyler.
âBut the mystery was solved upstairs on the ninth floor,â said Charlie. âDown here weâll find out whoâs behind the mystery.â
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. âGood luck,â said Brack. âI hope your solution turns tragedy into comedy.â
As the elevator doors closed behind them, Tyler looked down at Charlie and said, âThat guy is always saying weird stuff.â
Weird, but full of clues , thought Charlie. Tragedy and comedy?
âI think heâs pretty smart,â Charlie said. âAnyway, where should we go?â
Tyler shrugged and pointed. âThis way,â he said. âFollow the pipes.â
Long metal ducts snaked across the ceilings. As they walked deeper into the basement, more and more of the ducts appeared from different directions. They connected and joined together, forming even bigger pipes, and all running in the same direction.
They all passed through a wall near an orange door labeled BOILER ROOM.
When they opened the heavy orange metal door, Tyler and Charlie were met by a blast of thick, warm air. All the ducts entered this room. Half of them flowed into the dozen metal boilers. The boilers heated air. Then the air was carried by the other ducts to the vents on all the hotelâs floors.
âIf someone could be heard through that vent,â whispered Tyler, âthen they must be somewhere in this room.â
Charlie grabbed Tylerâs T-shirt. âLook! Over there!â he said.
A manâs shadow covered one of the roomâs cement walls. His hands fluttered up and down in a strange way, as if he were brushing aside spider webs. Or as if he were a magician casting a spell.
His hands stopped. âMister Ken,â they heard him say. Then the manâs shadow disappeared.
âHurry!â said Tyler. âBefore he disappears!â
The boys dashed around the row of boilers. A young man turned abruptly, a surprised look on his face. He was surrounded by nine bowling pins. A heap of metal spoons and rings was lying at his feet. Behind him lay a neatly folded shower curtain.
âYouâre the ghost!â accused Tyler angrily.
âGhost?â repeated the man. âWhat are you talking about?â
âHeâs not a ghost,â said Charlie. âHeâs a juggler.â
âJuggler?â repeated Tyler.
âMr. Thursday, right?â asked Charlie.
The man bowed toward them. âThursday the Master Thrower,â said the juggler. âAnd Iâm sorry about taking these things. But I had to practice.â
âAnd your luggage was lost by the airlines,â said Charlie. âAlong with your usual props, like bowling pins, juggling rings, and metal rods.â
âExactly,â said Thursday. âI just borrowed these items to use until mine turn up. I always planned to return them. I even folded the shower curtain!â
âYour luggage just got here,â said Charlie. âWe saw it up in the lobby.â
âSlow down,â Tyler said. âWhatâs going
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