The Caribbean Cruise Caper by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

were mushrooming among us,” Boris replied. He smiled. “And—please excuse it, Bettina—I think I called you the Big Cheese.”
    â€œI don’t mind,” Bettina said. “As an editor, I’ve been called a lot worse.”
    Boris turned to Jason. “Satisfied?” he demanded belligerently. “Or did you maybe also hear me say something about anchovies?”
    Everybody cracked up, except Jason, who turned away with a resentful expression.
    â€œHey, everybody, let’s get with it,” Cesar said. “All those pizzas are getting cold!”
    The group boarded the yacht. Arnie, the chef and steward, had already set up a table on the afterdeck with plates, napkins, and cold drinks. As they filed back, he and Chuck, the crew member who had slipped on Evan’s marbles that morning, appeared with four steaming pizzas, two plain and two with mushrooms. No anchovies, as Boris pointed out.
    Frank and Joe each took a slice of pizza. Frank chose plain and Joe chose mushroom. They wentto a corner of the deck where they couldn’t be overheard.
    â€œOur prankster seems to be getting more ambitious,” Frank said. “First it’s plastic spiders in the cake, now a lifetime supply of pizzas.”
    â€œDon’t forget David’s runaway laptop,” Joe replied. “Not to mention entering our room and rifling the contest entries.”
    Frank nodded. “The thing is, we had no real leads until now. This is different. There’s a good chance the trickster left a trail. Let’s check it out. What was the name of that pizzeria?”
    â€œAll-Island, I think,” Joe told him. “Anyway, how many can there be in a town this size?”
    When the boat was at sea, the telephone for passengers worked via a satellite dish, but when the boat docked, the phone was hooked up to a landline.
    Frank got the number of the pizzeria and dialed. A man answered. When Frank explained what he wanted, the man passed the phone to a woman with a Caribbean lilt in her voice.
    â€œOh, yes, I remember,” she said. “I will not so easily forget an order for fifteen pies, and that a false one, too!”
    â€œWhat can you tell me about the person who called?” Frank asked.
    â€œNot so very much,” she replied. “The voice was muffled. It was high for a man but low for a woman. A Yankee accent, I think. Like yours.”
    â€œDidn’t it surprise you, getting such a big orderfrom a stranger? Weren’t you suspicious?” Frank wondered.
    â€œFrom now on I will be,” the woman said with a musical laugh. “But we are used to orders from yachts for delivery to dockside. This is the first time we have a problem.”
    â€œI see,” Frank said. “Do you happen to know what time the call came in?”
    â€œOh, yes, just before three-thirty,” the woman told him.
    â€œHow sure are you?” Frank probed. “Did you write down the time?”
    â€œNo, but the caller asked us to deliver at precisely four,” she replied. “I checked my watch to see if we could do it. Just then I heard a clock chime the half hour.”
    Puzzled, Frank asked, “A clock chimed? From a building near you, you mean?”
    â€œNo, no, I heard the sound over the telephone,” the woman explained.
    Frank glanced around. A few feet away, hanging on the wall, was an old-fashioned chiming clock. The hands indicated four forty-four. The second hand was just passing the halfway point.
    Quickly, Frank said into the phone, “Please listen.” He pointed the handset at the clock.
    Bing bang bing bong . . .
    The sound died away. He put the receiver to his ear. “Well?” he asked.
    â€œThat is exactly the same sound,” the woman said. “But another clock might sound the same, too.My auntie has one with chimes like that. I’m sorry. I wish I could help more.”
    â€œYou’ve helped a