The Gold Mystery Read online

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Penguin Young Readers Group

  An Imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

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  Original title: Guldmysteriet

  Text by Martin Widmark

  Original cover and illustrations by Helena Willis

  English language edition copyright © 2016 Penguin Random House LLC. Original edition published by Bonnier Carlsen Bokförlag, Sweden, 2004. Text copyright © 2004 by Martin Widmark. Illustrations copyright © 2004 by Helena Willis. Published in 2016 by Grosset & Dunlap, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN 9780451533043

  Version_1

  Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Maps

  The Gold Mystery

  The People

  CHAPTER 1 | Five Hundred and Fifty Pounds of Pure Gold

  CHAPTER 2 | Caramba, What Terrible Weather!

  CHAPTER 3 | The Gold Is Gone!

  CHAPTER 4 | Wave to the Camera!

  CHAPTER 5 | Lukewarm Drinks

  CHAPTER 6 | The Man in the Crate

  CHAPTER 7 | Ready to Roll!

  CHAPTER 8 | What a Clever Kid!

  The Gold Mystery

  The books in The Whodunit Detective Agency series are set in the charming little town of Pleasant Valley. It’s the sort of close-knit community where nearly everyone knows one another. The town and the characters are all fictional, of course . . . or are they?

  The main characters, Jerry and Maya, are classmates and close friends who run a small detective agency together.

  CHAPTER 1

  Five Hundred and Fifty Pounds of Pure Gold

  It was a beautiful, warm afternoon in July. School was out, and Maya and Jerry had nothing but free time. So far that summer they had spent a lot of time riding their bikes, looking for adventure. That morning they had set out on their bikes as usual. And now, they had joined the police chief on a dock in the harbor. They were watching a wooden crate as it was hoisted out of a big ship.

  “Here comes the gold,” said the police chief with excitement. “Five hundred and fifty pounds of solid gold!”

  “I wonder how much it’s worth,” said Jerry.

  “Let’s see,” said the police chief, pushing his cap to the back of his head. “Probably more like sixteen million dollars, I’d say.”

  “Wow,” said Jerry, impressed.

  “Why is all this gold coming to Pleasant Valley?” asked Maya.

  “Well, it’s not going to stay here,” explained the police chief. “Tomorrow the gold heads to a big bank in another city. But tonight we are responsible for it.”

  “Where will the gold spend the night?” asked Jerry. “The hotel, like other visitors?”

  “Very funny, Jerry,” said Maya, rolling her eyes.

  “We’ll keep it in the safest place in Pleasant Valley,” replied the police chief. “The bank vault, of course!”

  The crate was loaded next to another similar-looking crate on the back of a truck. A dark-haired woman in uniform walked over. She saluted the police chief, who saluted her right back.

  “Maria Gonzales de la Cruz,” said the woman with a smile. “Head of security at the bank.”

  “Randolph Larson,” replied the police chief. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! Are you new at the bank? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

  “That’s right.” The security officer smiled. “I’ve been at the bank for about three weeks. Now,” she said, holding out a piece of paper, “I need your signature here.”

  “What’s that you’re signing?” Maya asked the police chief. She stood on tiptoe to see what was on the piece of paper. “Gold: five hundred and fifty pounds,” she read. Maya couldn’t see what else it said because the security officer’s thumb was in the way.

  “A consignment note,” explained Maria Gonzales de la Cruz, smiling at Maya.

  “It shows that we received the gold,” explained the police chief, who signed the bottom.

  The security officer tore off a yellow copy and gave it to the police chief, who folded the paper and tucked it in the pocket of his uniform.

  “Okay, we’re off to the bank,” said Maria Gonzales de la Cruz as she jumped into the truck.

  “Come on, kids,” said the police chief, hopping onto his bike. “Let’s head that way, too.”

  When Jerry, Maya, and the police chief reached Pleasant Valley’s bank, the security officer was hard at work wheeling the second crate inside. A bald-headed man in a gray suit watched from a nearby spot. He looked worried.

  “Careful there, Maria. Make sure it doesn’t tip over,” he said to the security officer.

  “Do you need a hand?” asked the police chief.

  The man in the gray suit looked up in surprise. Jerry thought he seemed pretty nervous.

  I’d probably be jumpy, too, he thought. That gold is worth a lot of money.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got this,” said Maria to the police chief. After a few more grunts, she disappeared into the bank.

  Maya rested her bike against the wall of the building and looked through the window into the bank. She saw the security officer wheeling the crate into a big bank vault. Maya looked at her watch. It showed ten to six.

  Then she saw Maria Gonzales pulling the heavy door to the vault closed.

  “Well, well, the police chief is here to make sure everything goes smoothly,” said the man in the gray suit.

  He walked over to the police chief and held out his hand. The police chief and the man shook.

  “This is the bank manager, Larry Mernard,” said the police chief to Jerry and Maya.

  Maya looked into the bank again. The security officer was now standing with her back to Maya and the others, adjusting something above the door to the vault. Maya leaned closer to the window but couldn’t see exactly what Maria Gonzales was doing.

  “It’s a big day for our little bank here in Pleasant Valley,” continued the police chief.

  “And a stressful one,” acknowledged the bank manager. “Just imagine if something were to go wrong!”

  Larry Mernard wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

  CHAPTER 2

  Caramba, What Terrible Weather!

  The police chief slapped the bank manager on the back.

  “But what could possibly go wrong?” asked the police chief.

  “Oh, well, nothing really,” replied Larry Mernard. “We have all the equipment you need to keep gold safe: a bank vault and a security camera. But I still feel so nervous! Just imagine if something happened tonight!”

  “The door to the vault looked pretty thick,” said Maya encouragingly.

  “Plus,” added the bank manager, “there are a few more safety precautions. You have to have the right key and the right combination to open the door to the vault.”

  “And you’re the only one who has the key and knows the combination?” asked the police chief.

  “Exactly,” answered the bank manager, patting his pocket
, where a bunch of keys jingled.

  Never one to miss an opportunity to learn about how to stop a thief, Jerry took out a notebook and pen from his pocket.

  “Who works at the bank?” he asked.

  “Is this an interrogation or what?” the bank manager said nervously.

  The police chief smiled and pointed to Maya and Jerry.

  “How silly of me! I forgot to introduce my two assistants, Jerry and Maya. They have helped me solve a lot of tricky cases.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said the bank manager.

  He straightened his tie and glanced uneasily into the bank. “Well, as I said, there are three of us on staff. I’m the manager, and Maria Gonzales de la Cruz is the head of security. She’s worked here for three weeks and is very efficient and careful.”

  “And strong,” said the police chief admiringly. “Those crates weren’t light—that’s for sure!”

  “Maria is from Spain,” continued the bank manager. “She’s always saying, ‘Caramba, what terrible weather,’ even on a warm and sunny day like today.”

  “That’s funny . . . ,” said Maya with a laugh. “Anyway, you said there were three of you working here . . . ?”

  “That’s right. There’s me and Maria—and then Roger Birchfield, of course,” said the bank manager. “Roger is the head teller and keeps all the papers in order. He has worked here for many, many years. He’s actually going to retire soon. He can’t wait for the day, he said. He claims that all those numbers have turned him gray.”

  Jerry, Maya, and the police chief looked around but didn’t see a third person, gray or otherwise.

  The bank manager saw them looking and said quickly, “No, Roger isn’t here right now. He . . . had to go to the doctor. He said he had a pain in his knee.”

  “Okay . . . ,” said the police chief. “Anyway, you said something about a security camera?”

  “That’s right,” said Larry Mernard. “It runs from six o’clock in the evening until eight o’clock in the morning—when I come in. During that time, everything that happens in the bank is filmed. And it’s all recorded and kept on our computer. Nobody can approach the door to the vault without being caught on camera.”

  Maya looked at her watch again. “So . . . in four minutes the camera will start recording in the bank.”

  “It all sounds foolproof,” said the police chief happily. “I should think you can sleep quite soundly tonight, Larry. Tomorrow the gold will head off, and it will be nice and quiet in your little bank again.”

  “I hope it will,” the bank manager said with a sigh. Once again he took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead.

  The security officer, Maria Gonzales de la Cruz, came out of the bank.

  “It’s time to lock up now, sir,” she said. “Two minutes until the camera starts rolling.”

  The bank manager, Larry Mernard, went into the bank. Maya looked through the window and saw him walk over to the vault.

  “Ay, caramba! Señor Police Chief, what do you think of this weather?” cried the security officer.

  The police chief squinted at the sun, which was still high in the sky, and replied, “Now that you mention it, it is pretty hot today.”

  Suddenly, Maria stamped her feet on the pavement with a loud bang. Then she straightened her back and snapped her fingers.

  The police chief, Jerry, and Maya looked at her in surprise.

  What on earth is she doing? wondered Maya.

  “Flamenco!” shrieked Maria Gonzales de la Cruz and spun around and around toward the police chief. “The music and soul of Spain! Señor, you would make an excellent flamenco dancer!”

  The security officer clicked her fingers around the police chief’s head, and he blushed.

  “Well, I’m not so sure,” he said shyly. “I’ve never been a great one for dancing.” The police chief gulped and went on, “I prefer wrestling . . . maybe I could show you a hold or two?”

  But before the police chief had time to put the security officer in a wrestling hold, the bank manager came out of the bank.

  “That’s it, then,” he said. “The gold is locked up, and the security camera is running. Now, let’s all go home and keep our fingers crossed that nothing happens tonight.”

  The bank manager, Larry Mernard, and the security officer, Maria Gonzales de la Cruz, said good-bye and walked off along Commercial Road.

  Jerry, Maya, and the police chief got on their bikes, and the police chief muttered, “Caramba, that’s an interesting way to keep a bank secure!”

  CHAPTER 3

  The Gold Is Gone!

  Early the next morning, Jerry and Maya cycled along at full speed toward the bank. The police chief had woken up Maya with a phone call. And of course she then called Jerry.

  “The gold is gone!” the police chief informed her.

  Maya and Jerry braked sharply outside the bank on Commercial Road and ran in through the open door. Inside the bank, the police chief was sitting at the counter, staring at a computer screen.

  “What’s happened?” asked Maya.

  “The gold—it’s gone.” The police chief groaned.

  “But how did that happen?” asked Jerry. “What about the vault? And the keys?”

  The police chief shook his head and said, “I don’t know. I’ve called the central police station and informed them of what’s happened. This is very serious. But come and look at this!”

  Jerry and Maya walked around the desk and looked over the police chief’s shoulder. On the screen they could see the bank building.

  “This is the film from the security camera,” explained the police chief.

  “Good,” said Maya. “If the gold has been stolen, the thief must be on the recording from last night.”

  “That’s what’s strange,” said the police chief. “I’ve looked through all of it, from six o’clock in the evening, when the recording started yesterday, all the way through until this morning when the camera switched off at eight.”

  “And . . . ?” asked Jerry.

  “Nothing,” said the police chief.

  “What do you mean, nothing?” said Maya. “The gold can’t have vanished out of the vault.”

  The police chief sighed again and continued, “I can’t understand it. The vault is empty, the gold is gone, and the cameras haven’t recorded a thing!”

  “And where were the staff?” asked Jerry. “The bank manager, the head of security, and the head teller?”

  The police chief took an envelope from the pocket of his uniform.

  “See for yourselves,” he said and handed the envelope to Maya. “This was on the floor in the vault.”

  Maya opened the envelope, took out the paper that was in it, and read it aloud.

  “The staff are hostages!” said Jerry when she had finished. “How awful!”

  “And if we try to follow the thieves, they are threatening to hurt Larry, Maria, and Roger,” said Maya.

  “If the staff has been kidnapped, who discovered that the gold was gone?” asked Jerry.

  “The man who owns the pet store along the street. He was walking past the bank just after eight o’clock this morning. He saw that the door was open but there were no lights on. He didn’t dare go in himself so he called me immediately from his store. When I got here I discovered the vault was closed and the gold—gone!”

  Jerry and Maya looked at the computer screen for a moment. The film showed the closed vault door. The police chief fast-forwarded and rewound the film several times but they couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary, and in the end he switched the screen off.

  “Strange,” said Jerry. “The door wasn’t opened all night but all the gold has disappeared!”

  “There must be another door in there,” Maya said finally.

  “Another door?” said the police chief in surp
rise. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if anyone had left with the gold through the front of the vault, they would have been filmed by the cameras, right?”

  “Yes, that’s true,” replied the police chief.

  “So the gold must have disappeared some other way. Come on, let’s take a closer look at the bank vault.”

  Maya and the police chief went into the vault. Jerry waited at the counter. Next to the computer screen there was a red button. A small label next to the button said “camera.” Jerry looked around the room and soon discovered the camera on the wall by the front door.

  Jerry pressed the button, and the camera’s red light immediately went on. He could see the inside of the bank on the screen.

  Jerry took out his trademark notebook and pen. Then he started sketching the layout of the bank on a sheet of his notebook. He drew the vault and the counter where he sat. Finally he drew the camera on the wall.

  Maya and the police chief were busily investigating the walls inside the vault. Next they examined the floor and the ceiling.

  They knocked and banged to see if they could possibly find a concealed door or a hole where the gold could have been smuggled out.

  Maya saw a rolled-up piece of gray fabric on top of a tall steel cabinet, but other than that—nothing.

  In the middle of the floor were the two wooden crates that Maria Gonzales de la Cruz, the head of security, had wheeled in the previous day. Maya and the police chief lifted the lids of the crates to see if they were empty. They were. The police chief and Maya each jumped up and sat on a crate.

  “This is a mystery,” said the police chief. “How in the world did the gold get out of a locked vault monitored by a security camera?”

  Maya thought back to the previous day. It started at the harbor . . . they watched the crates leave the ship . . . they met the head of security . . . the police chief signed the consignment note . . .