World Record Mystery, Page 2

  As Katie had mentioned, the contents of the bag consisted entirely of fluffy white washcloths—only a few of which were still folded—and three pairs of clean white socks. George held one pair up and shook gently, watching as a few pieces of pink glitter clinging to them floated off in the air. She set them down on the glass top of the pinball game.

  “Well,” she said, “Katie was right. I don’t think we’re going to get a lot of clues from this bag. It’s exactly what she said: washcloths and socks. Not so interesting to thieves!”

  Nancy finished writing the contents in her notebook—just in case—then rubbed her chin. “So, if no one was after the bag for valuable goods, and Katie even admitted the missing headband isn’t anything special, I think we have to consider that this could be a case of sabotage.”

  Bess and George nodded. “Someone may have taken the headband just to throw Katie off her game and keep her from winning that record. But who would do that?” Bess asked. “Katie’s so nice!” she added.

  “She really is so sweet,” Nancy agreed. She stared at the floor and then cocked her head to the left as she leaned in for a closer look at something she spied there. “Maybe the person didn’t have anything against Katie herself. Maybe they just didn’t want the record broken by anyone.”

  She bent down and picked up an arcade token and held it up for the other girls to see.

  Bess’s forehead wrinkled. “What does a token have to do with Katie’s headband? Everyone here has those tokens in their pockets. Anyone could have dropped that.”

  Nancy turned the token over and said, “Everyone here has tokens from Starcade. But look!”

  George peered at the token, then proclaimed, “This is a token for Gamespot!”

  The tokens for the rival arcade up the street were silver, unlike Starcade’s, which were a dark bronze color.

  Nancy nodded. “Right. And Mr. Finn said Gamespot has been pretty much a ghost town because he doesn’t have the Dance-A-Thon game. If Katie wins the world record here, it would probably be really good for Starcade’s business. And what’s good for Starcade’s business is bad for Gamespot’s business! Plus, we know Mr. Finn was here. What if he took Katie’s headband to keep her from winning?”

  Bess took a step back and bumped against the pinball machine, which went ding! in return. “We have to find Mr. Finn!”

  All three girls went up on tiptoes to search for the arcade owner in the crowd, but they couldn’t spy him anywhere. They decided he must have returned to his own arcade.

  Glancing at her watch, Nancy said, “Field trip time!”

  The members of the Clue Crew rushed up the street to Gamespot.

  When they arrived, the girls found a quiet arcade. Sure, there were a few people throwing basketballs into a hoop surrounded by netting on three sides, and several others clustered around a row of vintage video games with names like Space Invaders and Ms. Pac-Man, but it was far from the crowded scene at Starcade.

  They spotted Mr. Finn easily. He was behind the counter, polishing the glass display that housed all the prizes customers could exchange their tickets for. He was sucking on a lollipop and carefully rubbing a spot on the glass, but he looked up when the girls approached.

  “Hello, ladies. Twice in one day. You didn’t want to stick around and watch the record-breaking attempt? Too crowded for you?”

  George peered into the case of prizes and said, “It really is crowded there.”

  Mr. Finn took the green lollipop from his mouth and smiled. “Well, I’m happy to offer a quiet alternative if you’re looking to play some games. But I have to warn you, if my plans work out, it won’t be empty in here much longer.”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  Mr. Finn scratched his head with the hand that wasn’t holding his lollipop. “When I bumped into you at Starcade, I wasn’t that thrilled with all the customers they had, but as I walked back here, I realized something.”

  Bess propped an elbow on the counter. “What’s that, Mr. Finn?”

  She followed his eyes to her elbow and quickly stepped back. “Sorry!” she said, using her shirt to rub off the smudge mark her elbow had left on the just-cleaned glass.

  Mr. Finn just laughed and waved off her sleeve, using his rag instead. “Seeing all those people at Starcade inspired me to make Gamespot even better. Instead of passing by the bank on my way here, I went in and applied for a loan to buy the new Surf City game. It lets players feel like they’re really riding giant waves. I’m going to have a big contest to find someone who can beat its world record, with me as their sponsor. He or she can play as many free games of Surf City as it takes while training to be champion.”

  “I’ve always wanted to try surfing!” George declared.

  Mr. Finn grinned. “Well, there you go, then. You can be my first champion-in-the-making.” He popped his green lollipop back in his mouth and gestured at the case. “In the meantime, how about a free prize for three of my favorite customers?”

  He held out plastic spider rings to each of the girls. They offered smiles and thanks as they accepted the gifts.

  Nancy was just about to steer their conversation back to Katie and the missing headband, when George linked arms with the other girls and said, “Thanks again, Mr. Finn. Have a great afternoon!”

  “Oh, I intend to. I’m going to plan out how to rearrange the games I have, so I can make room for Surf City!”

  “Although—” Nancy began, but George gently tugged her and Bess away from the counter and out the door.

  Knock Your Socks Off

  “George, we barely started talking to him. Nancy was just working up to the good questions!” Bess said, nudging her cousin.

  George held her hand out to admire her black spider ring and said casually, “Oh, don’t worry. We got everything we need to eliminate him as a suspect.”

  Nancy and Bess turned to George in surprise. “We did?” Bess asked.

  George nodded smugly. “He was sucking on a green lollipop.”

  Bess and Nancy stopped and stared at George like she was speaking a foreign language.

  “What does a green lollipop have to do with anything?” Bess asked.

  George shrugged. “He said he stopped at the bank between here and Starcade to apply for a loan. That would be River Heights Savings and Loan.”

  She pointed at the bank a few storefronts away from them. An elderly woman was just pushing through the door, busily unwrapping a lollipop. A green lollipop.

  Nancy was beginning to see where George was going with this. “They give lollipops to all their customers.”

  George grinned. “Yup. And the tellers always try to get the adults to take the green ones, since they have lots of them left over.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Bess.

  “Because every kid everywhere knows the red ones are the best flavor,” George said. “Those are always the first to go!”

  Bess nodded, impressed with George’s detective skills. Nancy was too, even though she couldn’t help adding, “I like the yellow ones.”

  Bess and George made blech! faces.

  “So Mr. Finn was busy applying for his loan at the bank when Katie’s headband went missing,” Nancy said, pausing on the sidewalk to cross his name out in the Clue Book.

  “I’m glad he’s not a suspect anymore. I would never have set foot in his arcade again if he’d done something so mean to Katie. But now I can play all the Surf City I want!” George said.

  “Although you’ll probably have to get in line behind Michael!” Bess said.

  Nancy gaped at her friend. “Say that again, Bess.”

  Bess offered Nancy a perplexed look before repeating, “Um, I said, you’ll probably have to get in line behind Michael. Remember how he was bragging about all the high scores he has? I’m sure he’ll want to try out Surf City right away.”

  Nancy started walking again, faster this time, and the other two girls rushed to keep up.

  “Where are you going?” Geo
rge asked as Nancy turned them left onto Main Street.

  “I thought of someone else who has a good reason for not wanting Katie to compete today. If the judge from the Beamish Book of World Records was here in town, with no Dance-A-Thon record attempt to watch, she might have time to watch someone else’s world record attempt. . . .”

  Bess and George didn’t need any more hints. They knew exactly what Nancy was getting at.

  “Hurry!” George said, pointing down a side street. “If we follow the shortcut to Michael’s house, we can stay within the five-block radius!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George all had the same rule: if they were together, they could travel alone within a five-block radius of one of their houses. Luckily, George lived right in the center of town.

  The girls quickened their steps, and when they arrived at their destination a few minutes later, they were greeted by a strange sight.

  A very strange sight.

  Michael was on his front lawn, lying on his back the same way Chocolate Chip did when he wanted his belly scratched. He had one leg up in the air as he wrestled an orange-and-red-striped kneesock over one of his ankles. It looked like he was wearing about thirty socks on that leg already, while his other foot was completely bare. What was going on?

  When Michael spotted the girls, he dropped the sock and reached an arm across his chest to a stopwatch lying next to him in the grass. He hit a button on the top of it to pause the sweeping second hand.

  “Drat!” he said, making a face. “Thirteen seconds too slow.”

  Bess put a hand on her hip and peered at Michael. “Um, what exactly are you doing?”

  He gave a tug and pulled the whole stack from his foot, then jumped up to stand in front of them. He used the jumble of socks in his hand to wipe some sweat from his brow, which made Bess’s nose wrinkle.

  “I told you I was working on my own world record attempt,” Michael said in a very matter-of-fact voice.

  George laughed. “What’s the record? Goofiest person alive?”

  “No,” Michael explained. “I’m trying to become the person who can put the most socks on one foot in one minute. The world record holder got to forty-five. I did forty-eight once, but no one was around to record it, and I haven’t been able to repeat it since. I know I can, though.”

  He dropped the mass of socks to the ground. They were all different colors and sizes.

  “Oh, wow. That’s such a unique . . . er, talent,” said George.

  It was clear from her tone that she didn’t think it was much of a talent at all, but she was very polite, and she added a friendly smile. Michael shrugged. “It’s not a career choice or anything. I just needed something I could practice easily at home. This is a way easier record to break than Most Watermelons Smashed with a Head or Largest Collection of Rubber Duckies.”

  He bent and held up a yellow sock covered in a print of tiny ducks.

  “And way less dangerous than Longest Sword Swallowed,” said Nancy, who had paged through the Beamish Book of World Records book a time or two herself, marveling at all the weird and wonderful feats.

  “Way, way less gross than longest fingernails!” added Bess with a shudder.

  “Exactly,” said Michael, before plopping back down on the grass. “Sorry, guys, but I need to get back to practicing. Just in case the judge has time to see me after she watches Katie’s attempt!” He picked up his stopwatch in one hand and a purple polka-dotted sock in his other.

  Nancy pulled out her notebook and scribbled something. “So you haven’t heard, then?”

  Out of Clues

  Michael had moved the purple sock too close to his face, and he wrinkled his nose as he took a whiff. He tossed it back onto the ground beside him. Then he looked at the girls.

  “Heard what?” he asked.

  They all studied Michael for his reaction as Nancy stated, “Katie’s lucky headband has been stolen, and she doesn’t think she can attempt the record without it.”

  Michael gasped. “Oh no! That’s terrible.”

  George nodded. “It is. Although, I guess on the bright side, now the judge will have plenty of time on his or her hands. . . .” But Michael was already shaking his head. “Nope. No way. She’s bound to be upset by a change in plans. The last thing anyone wants is to attempt a record in front of a cranky judge.”

  Michael began pulling apart the giant stack of socks. He paused and looked at the girls. “Besides, I couldn’t do that to Katie. Us world record attempters stick together. I wanted us both to earn one today. I’d hate to win one instead of her.”

  He piled his socks into his arms and straightened up. “If she’s not attempting today, then neither am I.”

  The girls exchanged glances. It was clear they were all having the same thought: if Michael would only compete if Katie did, that would make him the last person to take her headband.

  But now what? They were fresh out of clues . . . again!

  The afternoon sun was beating down on the yard, and Michael offered the girls a cold drink while he put his bundle of socks away.

  He deposited the pile on a bench in the mudroom, and then they followed him through the dining room and into the kitchen, passing Michael’s little sister, Caroline, on the way. She was sitting at the table, which was covered in newspapers and hot-pink glitter. She was so absorbed in her craft project, she didn’t even notice when Bess called out a hello to her.

  George elbowed Bess. “That’s kind of like you when a new clothing catalog comes in the mail.”

  Beth smiled and elbowed her cousin back. In the kitchen, Michael handed each girl a tall glass of icy water, which they drank standing up.

  As they placed their empty glasses in the sink, Nancy said, “Maybe we should head back to the arcade and see if there have been any developments in the case since we’ve been gone. It’s always possible the headband turned up.”

  Bess and George agreed. Michael walked them to the door and cast a wistful glance at his sock pile as he wished them luck.

  The girls hurried along the sidewalk to Starcade, hoping that they’d return to find Katie happily bopping around the dance mat with her lucky headband keeping her bangs off her face. They spent the short walk comparing some of the funnier world records they had read about (Longest Bumper Car Marathon! World’s Largest Pepperoni Pizza! Most Hot Dogs Eaten in One Minute!).

  They held their breath as they entered the arcade, but let it out in a whoosh when they immediately spotted the Dance-A-Thon game sitting quietly in the corner.

  Nancy quickly spied Katie by the air hockey tables, deep in conversation with her mother and the arcade owner. Some of the crowd from earlier had thinned out, which wasn’t a good sign.

  Had everyone given up on Katie?

  Well, at least it didn’t look like the judge had arrived yet. They still had time to solve this mystery—even if they were out of clues.

  But just then George leaned in close to the other two girls and whispered, “I think I found another suspect for us to interview.”

  The Rival

  With her chin, George motioned toward Max Bensen. When Nancy had talked to Deirdre earlier, the budding reporter had mentioned that the current Dance-A-Thon world record holder was visiting from out of town. He planned to watch in person as his record was challenged.

  And now he was just coming out of the restroom. He shot a quick look over at Katie and the adults, then spun and turned toward the Skee-Ball machine.

  “He definitely looks suspicious,” said Bess. “And why would he come all the way here to celebrate someone breaking his record? Very suspicious, if you ask me!”

  George and Nancy agreed, and all three girls beelined straight for Max, who had just dropped a token into the Skee-Ball game and was waiting for the small bowling balls to roll to him.

  He picked up the first one in his hand and brought his arm back to roll it, only to encounter Nancy’s leg.

  “Oops, sorry!” he exclaimed. “I should have been paying better atte
ntion.”

  “That’s okay,” Nancy said, stepping aside. “We didn’t mean to get in your way. But now that we have, would you have time for a few questions?”

  Max tilted his head and looked at the girls beside him. “Sure. I guess. Do you mind if I play while we talk?”

  “Not at all,” George replied.

  Nancy took out the Clue Book and a pen and waited for Max to send his first ball zooming up the ramp. It landed in the forty-point hole, before bouncing right out and rolling into the gutter.

  “Ouch! Tough luck,” said Bess.

  Max looked embarrassed. “Thanks. This isn’t really my game.”

  “Oh, we know,” said George. “Your game is Dance-A-Thon, right? We heard that you’re the current world record holder.”

  Max looked proud. He picked up the next ball and shook out his shoulders. “For the moment, at least!” he said. He tossed a quick glance over his shoulder at Katie, who was still standing at the air hockey tables with her mom.

  The Clue Crew followed his eyes.

  George said softly, “Yeah. It must be hard to imagine giving up your title.”

  Max turned his attention back to the game and sent the next ball rocketing up the ramp. This one landed in the fifty-point hole—and bounced right back out. Max made a face.

  “This game takes a gentle touch,” Nancy said, trying to make Max feel better about his score.

  “That’s for sure,” he agreed. “Now. What were you saying before?”

  George repeated herself. “I said, it must be hard to imagine giving up your title.”

  Max shrugged. “Yes and no. Sure, I love being the titleholder, but to be honest, before Katie came along, I was actually getting a little bored with Dance-A-Thon.”

  “Really?” asked Bess, incredulous. “How can you get bored with something when you’re the best in the world at it?”

  Max picked up his next ball and bowled it so softly, it didn’t even make it up the ramp. The girls bit their cheeks and tried not to laugh. For all of Max’s skills on the dance pad, he really wasn’t so good at Skee-Ball. The ball rolled slowly back to him, and he grabbed it with a sigh before answering them.