فصل سی ام

chapter-30

On their way down to the lobby to ask for some extra time, Kyle realized that if all the Irma Hirschman stuff was really true and it forced Mr. Lemoncello out of town, he and Akimi would miss Mr. Lemoncello more than Abia and Angus would.

“We’ve been with him since he opened this library,” said Kyle.

“Yep,” said Akimi. “And we might be here when he closes it, too. Especially if people like the Chiltingtons find out he stole his first game idea.” “They wouldn’t force Mr. Lemoncello to close the library for theft of intellectual property,” said Angus. “They’d just take his name off the door and ask him to never come back.” “They would probably remove his statue as well,” said Abia.

“True,” said Angus. “And for sure they’d close up that Lemoncello-abilia Room.” “And take away his private suite.”

“Then they’d want to get rid of all those board games in the boardroom and—” “Okay, okay, you guys,” said Akimi. “We get the picture.” Kyle knew the truth: Without Mr. Lemoncello, the library would still be a library. It just wouldn’t be Mr. Lemoncello’s library.

The glittering Lemoncello hologram was still standing where they’d left him. But his eyes were closed. And he was snoring.

“Um, excuse me?” Kyle said to the snoozing hologram.

The fake Mr. Lemoncello’s eyes popped open. “Oh, hello. You were gone so long I must’ve entered my sleep mode. Do you have an answer? Why aren’t you standing on the lemon square? Would you like a recipe for lemon squares?” The hologram sputtered. “Bob Lemon was an all-star Major League Baseball pitcher who had his heyday in the 1940s and fifties.” The Nonfictionator random access memory chips were acting a little too randomly.

“Whoa, hang on,” said Angus.

“We need to discuss something with you,” said Akimi, looking around and seeing regular library patrons starting to stream into the building. “In private.” “We can use Meeting Room A,” suggested Kyle.

“Wonderrific!” said the hologram.

Then it disappeared with a squiggle-blip.

“Guess the Nonfictionator is sending him to Meeting Room A,” said Kyle. “Let’s go.” Kyle, Akimi, Angus, and Abia went into the rotunda and over to the door to Meeting Room A.

It was locked.

“This meeting room is reserved for the holographic Mr. Lemoncello and his guests,” said the voice in the ceiling. “Please enter the door code to gain access.” There was an alphanumeric pad, like on a telephone, above the door handle.

“Great,” said Akimi. “Anybody know the pass code?” “Yep,” said Kyle. “The same one he uses for every lock, remember?” He quickly tapped 7-3-2-3, because those numbers shared key space with the letters R-E-A-D.

The door opened. The group stepped in.

The Lemoncello hologram wasn’t in the meeting room, but Mr. Lemoncello was.

Well, his face, anyway. It was filling one of the room’s walls, which doubled as a video screen. And it was a worried face—without the usual twinkle in the eyes.

“Um, hello, sir,” said Kyle. “All of us in the Fabulous Fact-Finding Frenzy would like to request a delay of game.” “Why?” asked Mr. Lemoncello. “Is it raining?”

“No,” said Abia. “Both teams need additional research time.” “Because,” said Kyle, “we don’t want to jump to conclusions.” Mr. Lemoncello nodded. “Probably a wise move. Conclusion-jumping often leads to bad answers and twisted ankles.” “We want to make sure we know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” added Angus.

“So do I,” said Mr. Lemoncello, “even if it takes a year down yonder. Therefore, your request is hereby granted.” “We might also need your jet,” said Akimi. “In case we have to, you know, fly someplace.” Mr. Lemoncello nodded knowingly. “One often does when on a quest for truth. Use whatever tools it takes. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to talk to a detective who reminds me a bit of Timmy Failure when we need Encyclopedia Brown. I suspect mistakes will be made.” “A detective?” said Angus. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing much. It seems I’ve been burgled. Someone cracked open my super-secure floor safe.” “Did they take anything?” asked Kyle.

“Yes, Kyle. That’s why we call it a burglary. If they didn’t burgle anything, we’d simply call it an uninvited guest.” “What did they pilfer?” asked Abia.

“My future. They stole the complete set of plans to my Fantabulous Floating Emoji game. My big hit for the holidays has gone missing!”