The Great Circus Train Robbery Read Online Free PDF

she asked Spence.
    “He likes trains.”
    “I suppose so. But more than that?”
    “More than what? He’s a kid who likes trains.  Like me.”
    “Like you.  Exactly.  So we appeal to Boomer’s better side. Try to make friends.  Show him your train.  Get him to talk about himself.  He might make a blooper.  We’ll find out things.”
    “How do you know Boomer’s that kid in the photo? Could be some other kid. His own kid.”
    That was a possibility. But whether himself or his kid or someone’s else’s kid, there was a train involved. And Zoe was going to follow that lead.
    The living room was bare and drab. A brown couch with claw marks on the sides, a bookcase full of fat boring-looking books, a large TV, a black leather chair and a small end table. On the other side of a front hallway was a small room with a desk, an armchair, a computer and a tall filing cabinet. She nudged Spence, who was examining the rack of guns, and pointed at the computer. “We have to get into that.”
    “How? I’m no computer hacker. If I tried—and got caught? No way.” Spence hugged his chest. Today he was wearing a T-shirt with a black locomotive labeled RUTLAND ROCKET.
    “Deadline’s coming up for that essay, right? So boot up the computer, please.” She was blackmailing him, but what else could she do? She needed his help. She couldn’t count on her brother or any of the other boneheads in the Northern Spy Club.
    “You boot it up. I’ll look in the file drawers.”
    “Oh all right.”  Spence could be stubborn.  She had to humor him. “Call out if you find anything useful.”
    “Like what?”
    “I don’t know like what! Just anything that looks suspicious.” The computer was a tall narrow machine on the floor with a large monitor above on a desk, not unlike her mother’s. The keyboard sat on a pull-out drawer. Fortunately, he was using WORD. She clicked on Outlook Express.
    Two messages popped up on the screen. One read, The item you requested is back-ordered until later this week. It was signed, H.Z.
    She read the message aloud to Spence. “Meaning he can’t get the right bullets he wanted,” she suggested. “Or the right poison.”
    “Meaning he can’t get the deodorant he ordered,” Spence said. “My dad ordered some special deodorant and got a message like that. He sweats up an ocean when he plays his guitar. Mom objects to the odor.”
    The second message read, Yes, it has a sizable hole — big enough for your needs. H.Z.
    “So it wasn’t any deodorant he’d ordered,” she told Spence. “It sounds more like a coffin or maybe a bomb—H.Z. meant to say it makes a sizable hole.”
    Spence came over behind her to look at the computer screen, shrugged; then hearing a noise outside, went to the window and lifted a corner of the shade.
    “Shut it down!” he cried out. “Boomer just drove up!”
     

8
     

A QUICK ESCAPE
     
    Zoe’s heart was marching ahead of her fingers. Already Spence was calling at the cellar door: “He’s getting out of the car. Hurry!”
    Now the phone was ringing. It rang four times while she waited for the computer to shut down. A voice in the living room said, “Boomer,” and her heart went bang; she held on to the back of a chair. “I’ve got what you want. Sending it UPS,” the voice said. “Look for it in two days.”
    Whew! It was the answering machine, she realized, and she raced into the kitchen.
    The front door cracked open and Boomer stomped in. She heard him cough, and then groan—he was probably carrying heavy bags. The cat mewled and she shushed it. She crept down the cellar steps and shut the door softly behind. She heard Boomer call: “Here, Bashy, here, boy”—she shuddered at the name. Was that how he killed his victim—by bashing in his head? Would he kill the cat, too, as witness to the crime?
    Spence was outside, holding up the wooden door for her to climb through. Together they let it gently down. She snatched up the book and basket