The hundred-year-old clock tower stood in the center of the University campus.
BONG … BONG … BONG …
In front of the tall brick structure lay a large circular plot of green lawn. In the middle of the grassy plot, listening to the clock tower bonging out nine o’clock in the morning, the three spies had gathered with their scooters.
Earlier that morning, Lily’s mother had made her phone the two boys to meet her at the University. “You can all apologize to Pat,” said Sharon Blue. “He starts work at eight.”
But Lily had other plans. She told Oscar and Max to meet her instead in front of the clock tower on their scooters. “We can apologize to Pat later,” Max suggested.
Sitting on the grassy plot in front of the clock tower, Lily pointed at Max and said, “Okay, what was that crack you made last night about knowing who the thief was?”
She was surprised when both boys began spilling out ideas.
“Slow down!” she cried.
“The weird bike was collapsible,” said Oscar. “Like our scooters fitting in the back of your mom’s car. The wheels on that weird bike looked like balloons, so I’ll bet even those collapse.”
“Deflate,” said Max.
“Whatever,” said Oscar.
“So the bike could be pulled apart and fit into a much smaller space,” said Lily. “But which space?”
“The bike pulled a chameleon trick. Like you said last night on the bridge,” Max told Lily. “It blended in with the surroundings.”
“Which surroundings?” Lily said. “You said there was only steel and windows and benches and—”
It hit her! The other thing she always saw on the bridge. Students. And what were students always carrying?
“Backpacks,” said Max. “The bike could be pulled apart and collapsed—”
“Or deflated,” said Oscar.
“Yeah, um, deflate. And it could fit into a backpack. Or two.”
The pink-haired boy and the girl in the army pants.
“But what makes you sure it’s them?” asked Lily.
“Remember what your Mom said last night in the car?” said Max. “About that kid with the yo-yo?”
“He was all alone,” said Oscar.
“Right!” said Max. “The yo-yo guy said he’d been waiting for his friends for fifteen minutes. And all he saw were the guards.”
“So?” said Lily.
“So … if the pink-haired guy and his girlfriend were walking from that direction, then the yo-yo guy should have seen them walk into the walkway. But he didn’t.”
“They said they were in a hurry to get to the bus stop on the other side,” added Lily.
Max nodded. “If they were in a hurry, they should have entered the walkway from the west side, the yo-yo guy’s side, and kept walking. It only takes about two or three minutes, right? But the yo-yo guy never saw them.”
“They came from the east side,” said Lily.
“One of them did,” said Oscar. “Only one of them rode the bike.”
“The other one was waiting for the bike inside the walkway,” said Max. “Who knows how long that person had been in there! Then along comes the thief—chased by me—who zips into the walkway and meets his partner. The two of them pull the bike apart, stuff it into their backpacks, and then turn around, pretending to walk back in the direction of the Bio Building.”
“Didn’t that security guard check their backpacks?” asked Oscar.
“I don’t think the skinny guy did,” said Max.
“Even if he had, all he’d see were pieces,” said Lily. “He might not recognize it all pulled apart.” Lily remembered waiting in the empty Biology classroom yesterday with Speck. The little reptile had hidden in plain sight, inches from her nose. She hadn’t recognized him because she was looking for a green Speck instead of a brown one.
“The students would probably lie and say the parts were something else,” suggested Oscar. “Like the wheels were balloons for a dorm party.”
“Or the handlebars were part of a table,” said Max.
“Or part of a class project,” said Lily.
Before she left the house that morning, Lily had glanced at her mother’s notepad from work. Sharon Blue had jotted down the students’ names when Pat gave her his report on the bridge yesterday. Lily copied down their names and the subjects they were majoring in. The pink-haired boy and his girlfriend were both Art majors.
During their huddle on the grassy plot, each of them had supplied a valuable piece of the puzzle. Who, how, and where. The pieces fit like a newly assembled bike. Now it was time for action.
“And if we don’t hurry, that skink could get sick and die,” said Lily. “I was reading about it on the Internet, and those lizards are really finicky when it comes to eating. The thief might not know what to feed it.”
“What does it eat?” asked Max.
“Plants mostly,” said Lily. “And eggs and—”
“Eggs?” said Oscar.
“Yeah, hardboiled,” added Lily.
Now Oscar knew more than ever that they were on the right trail.
“Of course, some eat pinkies—” said Lily.
“They eat your little finger?” asked Max.
Lily shook her head. “Pinkies are hairless, baby mice. You know, pink. And a really good source of protein, too.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” said Oscar.
“Let’s go, the Art Center is over there,” Max pointed.
Max, Lily, and Oscar mounted their scooters and steered toward a gleaming pile of steel, glass, and aluminum.
“My dad hates it,” said Max. “He says it looks like a pregnant disco ball.”
A long, curving ramp that sloped deep into the ground circled the disco ball like a moat. At the lower end of the ramp lay a shiny brass door.
“I think this leads to the workshops,” said Max.
“I hope you’re right,” said Oscar. He was thinking about the new scooter he could buy with the five hundred dollar reward money.
Lily stared at their reflections in the polished brass. Max wore a red U. of M. baseball cap. Oscar wore a bright blue T-shirt with ice cubes printed on the front. She was wearing black-and-gold sunglasses that matched her scooter.
“I hope you’re both right,” said Lily. She opened the door and led the way inside.
“Yow!” exclaimed Max.
The inside walls were polished aluminum. The red cap, the blue tee shirt, and the sunglasses were reflected back at them from dozens of curious angles.
“It is like a disco ball,” said Lily. The three spies wandered the mirrored, mazelike hallways for what seemed like an hour. Curving halls led to straight halls. Straight halls led to zig-zag halls. The floor sometimes ramped up, sometimes sloped down. Every door they found was locked. Finally, Oscar said, “¡Mire! There!” A gold sign with the word WORKSHOPS and an arrow pointed to the right.
Quietly they glided down the hall.
BANG! BANG!
“Gunshots?” asked Oscar.
Max shook his head. The bangs grew louder as they approached a set of steel double doors.
“It’s coming from inside,” said Oscar.
The metallic banging was joined by the banter of boys’ voices.
“The pink-haired guy?” asked Lily.
The cut on Oscar’s knee started to sting. I know that voice, he thought.
“Follow me when I count three,” said Max.
“You mean, like in the movies?” said Lily.
He silenced her with a wave of his hand. “One,” he said, carefully gripping the iron handle.
“Two …” The door swung open silently.
“Three!” Max, with the grace of a chameleon, swiftly slipped inside. Lily and Oscar were right on his heels.
The workshop was a long rectangular room with a low ceiling. Machinery and worktables filled up half the space. The banging sounds came from the center of the room. Two male students were building what Max guessed was a bizarre modern sculpture. The pink-haired student hammered while the other student, a stranger to Max, wore safety goggles and operated a welding torch. The torch sizzled and sputtered, flashing like miniature fireworks. The students, concentrating on their work, had not noticed the three spies enter the room behind them.
Lily and Max ducked under a heavy metal table. Oscar darted behind a giant drill press.
“What’s that supposed to be?” Lily asked. “Modern art?”
“Modern art with handlebars,” said Max.
Lily noticed the strange metal shapes of the sculpture. Handlebars, pedals, gears. Clever, she thought. They’re turning the evidence into a piece of art. No one will recognize it. But where’s the Solomon Island skink?
The pink-haired student dropped his hammer with a sudden clang. It bounced and skittered across the floor, landing inches from Oscar’s hiding place.
The other student turned down the torch flame. “What’s your problem?” he snarled.
“Sorry. It’s hot in here,” said the pink-haired student. He flapped the sides of his bowling shirt to fan his chest. “I need a soda.”
“Then shut up and sit down. I’m almost finished.”
The pink-haired student sat heavily onto a nearby stool. “Maybe I should call Ellen and see how she’s doing.”
“Will you shut up and quit worrying. You sound like an old woman!”
“Listen, Rake—” started the other.
The welder, Rake, threw off his goggles. “Do you want to get caught or not? I told you to steal just the gradebook from Cruz. That was all! If I don’t pass her dumb class, my dad’s not paying for school anymore. But you had to go and take that flying monkey lizard for your stupid girlfriend!”
“Monkey-Tailed skink,” said the other. “And maybe if you paid attention more to what people said, you’d be able to pass your precious class.”
The door opened. The inky-haired girl from the bridge strolled in. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Whose scooters in the hall? They’re cool.”
Rake hadn’t heard her. As soon as he saw her walk in, he turned away and started welding a another bicycle piece to the sculpture.
“Hey, Ellen,” said the pink-haired boy.
“Hey, Pinky,” said the girl.
Pinky? thought Oscar. He noticed the girl was carrying an old canvas bag. She plopped it on the pink-haired student’s lap.
“Thanks, but there’s something wrong with it,” said Ellen.
Pinky opened the neck of the canvas bag and peered inside. “It looks … browner than before,” he said.
“I gave it hard-boiled eggs, like you said,” said Ellen. “But it didn’t eat anything. And it hardly touched the fruit. So I tried cheeseburgers, it loved those.”
Rake laughed. “Great present, loverboy,” he said.
“Think you should put it back?” asked Ellen.
“Maybe the eggs you got were rotten,” said Rake. “I hope you didn’t buy them from that Santiago Market.” He had stopped welding. He stepped over to Ellen and Oscar caught his first clear shot of Rake. Oscar glanced at the hand holding the welding torch. Below the wrist, spiraling around the right arm, glowed a red dragon tattoo.