فصل پنجاه و سوم

chapter-53

Making his way down the secret passageway behind the fiction bookcases to Mr. Lemoncello’s office, Kyle thumbed the “3-D Raven-Cam” icon he found on the portable Nonfictionator’s universal remote right after “Radio.” Abia and Miguel followed behind him.

“What’s our play?” whispered Miguel.

“A little one-on-one interview action,” Kyle said in a soft voice. “I hear it’s a time-honored investigatory technique.” “Indeed,” said Abia.

“What took you so long, Raymo?” snarled one of the Krinkle brothers when they heard the approaching footsteps.

“Sorry,” said Kyle when he and his friends stepped into the office. “We’re not Mr. Raymo. We’re just kids. Beth Bennett sent us.” Kyle could see Mr. Lemoncello’s battered shoebox sitting on top of the desk. The Benjamin Bean carton was on the floor—on top of a stack of other cardboard crates, a couple of which were labeled “New Game Ideas.” Next, he checked out the office bookcase. The ceramic raven figurine was sitting on the top shelf. Kyle ambled over to make sure he was standing just below it. Abia and Miguel ambled after him. When the Krinkle brothers spoke, Kyle wanted to make absolutely certain that they were talking directly into the lens of the raven-cam.

“Beth Bennett sent you?” snarled the grumpy brother, Frederick.

“How did you children get into the library?” demanded the other brother, David.

“We learned there is a secret exit reading about Mr. Lemoncello’s great library escape game,” said Kyle. “And, if you just go backward, it becomes a secret entrance.” “And what, pray tell, are you doing here?” asked David.

“Beth Bennett is my grandmother,” said Kyle, without covering his mouth, shuffling his feet, or staring without blinking. “I think you guys know my sister, Jessica, too.” “And we are his besties,” said Abia because no way did she or Miguel look like they were related to Kyle.

“Meemaw sent us here,” said Kyle.

“Meemaw?” said David Krinkle.

“That’s what I call Grandma.”

“She would have come herself,” said Abia, “but, well, the heat is on, as they say.” “Yeah,” added Miguel. “Those guys from TMZ, Access Hollywood, and 60 Minutes are camped out on her front lawn.” “Meemaw wants to make sure you two will be able to keep your end of the deal,” said Kyle. “Otherwise, she says, she’s blabbing to the press!” “Now why would Beth Bennett worry about the one hundred thousand dollars we promised to pay her?” sneered David. “She did her job. Everyone believes she is Irma Hirschman. She’ll get her money.” “Typical actress,” muttered Frederick. “Tell her to go back to playing Mrs. Maplebutter. Oh, wait. She can’t. They fired her.” David raised a hand to calm his brother. “Money is not a problem,” he told Kyle. “We’re very wealthy. Why? Because we know what you kids really want.” “That’s right,” said Frederick. “For years, we Krinkle brothers have taken the wacky ideas dreamed up by fools like Luigi Lemoncello and made them better.” “And cheaper!” added David.

“You stole ideas from Mr. Lemoncello?” said Kyle. “Impressive.” Now Frederick, his face turning crimson, stepped forward. “We didn’t ‘steal’ ideas from Mr. Lemoncello!” he bellowed. “We improved them.” “Exactly,” said David. “When Mr. Lemoncello’s disgruntled employee, Benjamin Bean, first came to us in the 1970s with a screwy idea for a picture game coupled with a whoopee cushion, we took that concept and streamlined it. Made it simpler. More accessible to the masses.” “I see,” said Kyle. “So this other guy, Benjamin Bean, stole that Whoop Dee Doodle idea from Mr. Lemoncello for you?” “We didn’t ‘steal’ Whoop Dee Doodle,” insisted the furious Frederick. “Benjamin Bean liberated Mr. Lemoncello’s half-baked, harebrained scheme for us. He brought a poor infant of an idea to a more loving and supportive home.” “For a hefty fee, of course,” grumbled David. “We paid him fifty thousand dollars for Mr. Lemoncello’s idea.” He checked his watch. “Look, kid, we’ve got a lot of work to do….” “What about your new E-Float-E-Cons game?” asked Kyle. “We saw an ad for it on TV. How’d you come up with that cool idea?” David Krinkle grinned. “Easy. Your big sister, Jessica, found some very interesting blueprints at Mr. Lemoncello’s home and sold them to us.” “So go home and tell Miss Jessica Bennett not to worry about her money, either,” said Frederick. “She’ll be paid as soon as our version of Mr. Lemoncello’s floating emoji game rolls off the assembly line. We want to make sure it works before we pay her for liberating those blueprints out of the old coot’s floor safe.” “Great,” said Kyle. “We’ll give Jessie the message. Oh, one last thing. Meemaw wants to know when she’s getting her head shot back.” “You mean the publicity still we used to dummy up the game box top?” said David.

“Yeah,” said Kyle. “It’s her only copy.”

“We’ll put it in the envelope with her check,” said Frederick.

“With the money we make off our version of Mr. Loony-cello’s Fantabulous Floating Emoji game,” boasted David, “who knows? Maybe they’ll both get holiday bonuses!” The two brothers laughed.

“Yes, sir,” said Kyle. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Raymo entered the office. He was pushing an empty handcart.

“Excuse me,” he said. “We need to put those boxes someplace more secure.” He gestured toward the shoebox, the Benjamin Bean carton, and the “New Ideas” crates.

“What?” said Frederick. “Why?”

“Mobs of civilians will be traipsing through this building tomorrow night,” said Mr. Raymo. “We should keep important documents such as those locked up tight in the control room for the next twenty-four hours. After the gala, we will have more time to properly deal with them.” “I like the way you think, Raymo,” said David. “Lock ‘em up!” Mr. Raymo loaded the boxes on his dolly and exited.

Making sure to wink at Kyle on his way out.

“You kids in town through tomorrow?” asked David.

“Yes,” said Abia. “We are spending the night at the local Holiday Inn Express.” “Kyle’s grandmother is paying for it,” said Miguel.

Frederick narrowed his eyes and lowered his suspicious eyebrows. “Who’s this Kyle?” “This other kid we know in Kansas City,” said Kyle quickly. “He couldn’t make the trip. But his grandmother is friends with my grandmother. She paid for our plane tickets and the motel room. She’s our chaperone. She thinks we came here to read.” “Well, see if she’ll spring for a second night at the motel,” said David. “That way, you kids can come to our grand opening gala tomorrow.” “You bet, sir,” said Kyle. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” The big event was in less than twenty-four hours.

Kyle just hoped that was enough time for Mr. Raymo to do everything he needed to do to make Kyle’s plan work!