The Absent Author (3 page)

“Can I keep this?” Dink asked Mr. Paskey.

Mr. Paskey blinked. “Well, I guess that’ll be all right. But why do you need the itinerary?”

Dink picked up a marker and drew circles around the words AIRPORT, TAXI, HOTEL, and BOOK NOOK.

“This is like a trail. It leads from the airport last night to the Book Nook today,” Dink said. “Somewhere along this trail, Wallis Wallace disappeared.”

Dink stared at the itinerary. “And we’re going to find him!”

Mr. Paskey shooed them out of the Book Nook and locked the front door. “I have to eat lunch,” he said. He scurried down Main Street.

“Come on,” Dink said. “There’s a phone in Ellie’s Diner.”

“Good, we can eat while you’re calling…” Josh stopped. “Who are you calling?”

“The airport,” Dink said, “to see if Wallis Wallace was on that seven o’clock flight last night.”

They walked into Ellie’s Diner just
as Jimmy Fallon and his grandfather came out. Jimmy was working on a triple-decker chocolate cone.

Ellie stood behind the counter. As usual, her apron was smeared with ketchup, mustard, chocolate, and a lot of stuff Dink didn’t recognize.

Ellie smiled. “Hi, Dink. Butter crunch, right?”

Dink shook his head. “No, thanks, Ellie. I came to use the phone.”

“Excuse me, but would it be all right if I bought you each a cone?” Mavis Green asked. “I was going to buy lunch for Mr. Wallace anyway.”

“Gee, thanks,” Josh said. “I’ll have a scoop of mint chip and a scoop of pistachio.”

“Oh, you like green ice cream, too,” Mavis said. She smiled shyly. “I’ll have the same, please.”

“I like pink ice cream,” Ruth Rose said. “I’ll have a strawberry cone, please. One scoop.”

“How about you, Dink?” Mavis asked.

“I’m not hungry, thanks,” he said. “But you guys go ahead. I’m going to call the airport.”

Dink felt guilty. If he hadn’t invited Wallis Wallace to Green Lawn, his favorite author would be safe at home in his castle in Maine.

But Dink couldn’t help feeling excited too. He felt like a detective from one of Wallis Wallace’s books!

Dink stepped into the phone booth, looked up the number for New England Airlines, and called. When a voice came on, he asked if Wallis Wallace had been aboard Flight 3132 last night.

“He was? Did it land at seven o’clock?” Dink asked. “Thanks a lot!”

He rushed out of the phone booth. “Hey, guys, they told me Wallis Wallace was on the plane—and it landed right on time!”

“So he didn’t miss his flight,” Ruth Rose said through strawberry-pink lips.

“That’s right!” Dink pulled out the itinerary. He drew a line through AIRPORT.

“This is so exciting!” Ruth Rose said.

“Now what?” Josh asked, working on his double-dipper.

Dink pointed to his next circle on the itinerary. “Now we need to find out if a taxi picked him up,” he said.

“Lawrence Taxi is over by the river,” Ruth Rose said.

Dink looked at Mavis. “Would you like to come with us? We can walk there in five minutes.”

Mavis Green wiped her lips carefully with a napkin. Td love to come,” she said in her soft voice.

They left Ellie’s Diner, walked left on Bridge Lane, then headed down Woodview Road toward the river.

“Mr. Paskey looked pretty upset, didn’t he?” Josh said, crunching the last of his cone. His chin was green.

“Wouldn’t you be upset if you had a bunch of customers at your store waiting to meet a famous author and he didn’t show up?” Ruth Rose asked.

“Yeah, but he was sweating buckets,” Josh said. “I wonder if Mr. Paskey kidnapped Wallis Wallace.”

“Josh, get real! Why would Mr.
Paskey kidnap an author?” asked Ruth Rose. “He sells tons of Wallis Wallace’s books!”

“I don’t think Mr. Paskey is the kidnapper,” Dink said. “But in a way, Josh is right. Detectives should consider everyone a suspect, just the way they do in Wallis Wallace’s books.”

At River Road, they turned left. Two minutes later, Dink pushed open the door of the Lawrence Taxi Service office. He asked the man behind the counter if one of their drivers had met Flight 3132 at Bradley Airport the previous night.

The man ran his finger down a list on a clipboard. “That would be Maureen Higgins. She’s out back eating her lunch,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “Walk straight through.”

They cut through the building to a grassy area in back. Through the trees,
Dink could see the Indian River. The sun reflected off the water like bright coins.

A woman was sitting at a picnic table eating a sandwich and filling in a crossword puzzle.

“Excuse me, are you Maureen Higgins?” Dink asked.

The woman shook her head without looking up. “Nope, I’m Marilyn Monroe.”

The woman wrote in another letter. Then she looked up. She had the merriest blue eyes Dink had ever seen.

“Yeah, cutie pie, I’m Maureen.” She pointed her sandwich at Dink. “And who might you be?”

I’m Dink Duncan,” he said. “These are my friends Josh, Ruth Rose, and Mavis.”

“We wondered if you could help us,” Ruth Rose said.

Maureen stared at them. “How?”

“Did you pick up a man named Wallis Wallace at the airport last night?” Dink asked.

Maureen squinted one of her blue eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because he’s missing!” said Josh.

“Well, I sure ain’t got him!” Maureen took a bite out of her sandwich. Mayonnaise oozed onto her fingers.

“I know. I mean, we didn’t think you had him,” Dink said. “But did you pick him up?”

Maureen nodded, swallowing. “Sure I picked him up. Seven o’clock sharp, I was there with my sign saying WALLACE. The guy spots me, trots over, I take him out to my taxi. He climbs in, carrying a small suitcase. Kinda spooky guy. Dressed in a hat, long raincoat, sunglasses. Sunglasses at night! Doesn’t speak a word, just sits. Spooky!”

“Did you take him to the Shangri-la Hotel?” Dink asked.

“Yep. Those were my orders. Guy didn’t have to give directions, but it woulda been nice if he’d said something. Pass the time, you know? Lotta people, they chat just to act friendly. Not this one. Quiet as a mouse in the back seat.”

Maureen wiped mayonnaise from her fingers and lips. “Who is this Wallace fella, anyway?”

“He’s a famous writer!” Ruth Rose said.

Maureen’s mouth fell open. “You mean I had a celebrity in my cab and never even knew it?”

“What happened when you got to the hotel?” Josh asked.

Maureen stood up and tossed her napkin into the trash. “I get out of my side, then I open his door. He hops out,
hands me a twenty. Last I seen, he’s scooting into the lobby.”

Dink pulled out the itinerary. He crossed out taxi with a thick black line. Then he drew a question mark next to HOTEL.

“Thanks a lot, Miss Higgins,” he said. “Come on, guys, I have a feeling we’re getting closer to finding Wallis Wallace.”

Maureen put her hand on Dink’s arm. “I just thought of something,” she said. “When he handed me my fare, this Wallace fella was smiling.”

Dink stared at Maureen. “Smiling?”

She nodded. “Yep. Had a silly grin on his face. Like he knew some big secret or something.”

Back on Main Street, Dink adjusted his backpack and led the way to the Shangri-la Hotel.

“Maureen Higgins said she dropped him off at the hotel last night,” he told the others, “so that’s our next stop.”

“What if she didn’t?” Josh said, catching up to Dink.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean maybe Maureen Higgins wasn’t telling the truth. Maybe
she
kidnapped him!”

“And she’s hiding him in her lunch-box!”
Ruth Rose said.

“Very funny, Ruth Rose,” Josh said. “Maureen Higgins said she drove Wallis Wallace to the hotel. But what if she drove him somewhere else?”

“You could be right,” Dink said. “That’s why we’re going to the hotel.”

With Dink in the lead, the four approached the check-in counter in the hotel lobby.

“Excuse me,” Dink said to the man behind the counter.

“May we help you?” He was the saddest-looking man Dink had ever seen. He had thin black hair and droopy eyebrows. His skinny mustache looked like a sleeping centipede. A name tag on his suit coat said
MR. LINKLETTER
.

“We’re looking for someone.”

Mr. Linkletter stared at Dink.

“He’s supposed to be staying in this hotel,” Josh said.

The man twitched his mustache at Josh.

“His name is Wallis Wallace,” Dink explained. “Can you tell us if he checked in last night?”

Mr. Linkletter patted his mustache. “Young sir, if we had such a guest, we wouldn’t give out any information. We have
rules
at the Shangri-la,” he added in a deep, sad voice.

“But he’s missing!” Ruth Rose said. “He was supposed to be at the Book Nook this morning and he never showed up!”

Dink pulled out the itinerary. “See, he was coming here from the airport. The taxi driver said she saw him walk into this lobby.”

“And he’s famous!” Ruth Rose said. She placed her book on the counter in front of Mr. Linkletter. “He wrote this!”

Sighing, Mr. Linkletter looked down
at Ruth Rose. “We are quite aware of who Mr. Wallace is, young miss.”

Mr. Linkletter turned his sad eyes back on Dink. He flipped through the hotel register, glanced at it, then quickly shut the book. “Yes, Mr. Wallace checked in,” he said. “He arrived at 8:05.”

“He did? What happened after that?” Dink asked.

Mr. Linkletter pointed toward a bank of elevators. “He went to his room. We offered to have his suitcase carried, but he preferred to do it himself.”

“Have you seen Mr. Wallace yet today?” Mavis asked.

“No, madam, I haven’t seen him. Mr. Wallace is still in his room.”

Still in his room!

Suddenly Dink felt relieved. He felt a little foolish, too. Wallis Wallace
hadn’t been kidnapped after all. He was probably in his room right now!

“Can you call him?” Dink asked.

Mr. Linkletter tapped his fingers on the closed hotel register. He patted his mustache and squinted his eyes at Dink.

“Please?” Dink said. “We just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Finally Mr. Linkletter turned around. He stepped a few feet away and picked up a red telephone.