As soon as Samantha and Nipper made it home, they changed into clean, dry clothes and went to the kitchen. Neither of them had eaten anything all day, other than when Nipper munched on a few bread cubes.
They made themselves sandwiches and were just cleaning up when their parents came in through the side door.
“Sorry we’re so late, kids,” said Mrs. Spinner. “I hope you weren’t worried about us.”
Mr. Spinner leaned his umbrella against the wall and started to hang up his coat but stopped. He studied his children for a moment. It was the right number of kids, but they were wearing different clothes than they’d been wearing that morning. Samantha’s hair was a mess, and she looked like she’d been blasted in the face by a garden hose. Nipper had a bruise about the size of a quarter on his cheek.
“You’re looking a little rough around the edges, you two,” observed their father. “Did something happen while we were gone?”
Samantha and her brother glanced at each other.
“How was the Pet Expo?” Samantha asked, changing the subject.
“Ahh…what a fine show,” Mr. Spinner declared, not even noticing that she hadn’t answered his question. He turned and finished hanging up his coat.
Then he bent down and grabbed their pug with both hands.
“Look what we got,” he said, holding Dennis up in front of them.
“We already had that dog,” said Nipper.
“Very funny,” their dad said, twisting the pug around to show off a new pet accessory. A wide plastic ring curved around Dennis’s neck just above his sparkling collar with the giant blue gem.
A very faint buzzing sound came from the dog.
“It’s a Blinky Barker light,” their dad said, dropping Dennis back onto the floor. “Show ’em what you can do, old pal.”
“Wruf!” the little dog yapped, and a lightbulb turned on inside the new collar. It reflected off the jewels on his gold collar and the facets of the big walnut-sized diamond, lighting up the room in a dazzling display of light.
Mr. Spinner smiled. “What a splendid use of science,” he said, watching Dennis trot off to the living room.
Mrs. Spinner walked over and joined the conversation. “It was a strange day at the expo,” she said.
“Oh, yes,” their father chimed in. “We had an encounter with a strange group of people, all dressed in black.”
Samantha and Nipper glanced at each other again.
“We saw them following Dennis around the convention hall,” said Mrs. Spinner. “Then they started following your father and me.”
“They seemed to think they were being sneaky,” Mr. Spinner added. “But we noticed right away because they smelled terrible. Like smoldering lamp cords, or sulfurous filament epoxy.”
“Here’s the strange part,” their mother continued. “While one of them tried to get my attention, the other one grabbed our umbrella. He opened it up in the middle of the convention hall. He got really angry and threw it on the floor.”
“They walked away without saying anything,” said their father.
Mrs. Spinner went to the kitchen counter and began sorting through the day’s mail.
“What is it with everyone and their umbrellas?” she wondered as she opened an envelope.
“Well, dear, this is Seattle,” Mr. Spinner reminded her.
Samantha decided not to say anything about smelly ninjas or umbrella snatchers just then. She shot her brother a quick look to keep him quiet.
Mrs. Spinner unfolded five pages of blue paper. It was a new Unexplained Vanishing Person Form.
“Didn’t we already fill out three of those?” asked Mr. Spinner.
A week after Uncle Paul went missing, two notices arrived. One was a death certificate for “Flipflop P. Wafflemaker.” Another was an official warning to be on the lookout for an eight-year-old girl in a yellow polka-dot blouse who had gone missing in 1973.
Many more incorrect forms and crazy, mixed-up files had come since then.
This one requested additional information for “Pablo Rotación.”
“I think the police officers who came to our house were clowns,” Mrs. Spinner sighed.
While their parents worked together at the table filling out the new form, Samantha and Nipper left the house through the kitchen door.
“Flipflop P. Wafflemaker.” Nipper chuckled as they headed across the driveway.
“Pablo Rotación.” Samantha giggled, then stopped when she realized what she’d said. “Wait. I think that’s Spanish for Paul Spinner.”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever going to get Uncle Paul’s name right,” said Nipper.
Samantha became more serious. “And I don’t think Uncle Paul is dead, either,” she said.
They stopped at the foot of the stairs to Uncle Paul’s apartment over the garage.
“You keep saying that,” Nipper told her. “But we’ve been halfway around the world and haven’t seen or heard anything about Uncle Paul at all.”
He looked up at the stairs.
“And now we’re right back where we started.”
Samantha pulled the throwing star from her pocket and waved it at Nipper.
“No,” she said. “Ninjas are hunting for umbrellas on two continents. And this is a clue.”
Samantha and Nipper climbed the stairs next to the garage, entered their uncle’s one-room apartment, and began to investigate everything from scratch. They studied all the walls and windowsills. They crawled along the floor and searched under the sofa. They were both sure that, somewhere, there was a clue about ninjas who smell or uncles who just go missing.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Nipper asked.
“I have no idea,” said Samantha. “Another throwing star…or a note that says ‘I’m sorry you won’t get to spend any time in Florence.’ Maybe there’s a book about umbrellas.”
They stood back up and began to explore the bookshelves. Samantha started with the books on the top shelf and Nipper started from the bottom. There were too many to read. Systematically, they inspected the spine of each book. Some had titles printed in English. Others had words in completely unidentifiable languages, if they were words at all. Other books just had symbols on them.
Halfway across the bottom shelf, Nipper gasped. He gestured for Samantha to come look at a thick book bound in red leather.
Three engraved symbols ran down the spine: an arrow, a slingshot, and a ninja throwing star. Nipper yanked the book from the shelf and stood up.
“ ‘Encyclopedia Missilium,’ ” he read dramatically. He flipped through the pages and stopped about a third of the way through the book.
“ ‘Chapter Four,’ ” he read. “ ‘Shuriken and Those Who Throw Them.’ ”
Samantha held up the throwing star so they could both see the image engraved in the center. Then she turned the star over. An ornate crown with angled swords decorated each side. Nipper flipped forward a few more pages. Then he held the book up for both of them to read.
THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF INTERNATIONAL NINJAS (AKA THE RAIN)
The RAIN is an international crime syndicate. The organization is designed to consist of two dozen members at all times. Said members include twenty-three martial arts masters and a trained monkey. They specialize in stealth, murder, and theft.
They have stolen a super-secret diagram giving them access to hidden doorways and transportation networks around the globe. This has transformed them from a mediocre outlaw gang to a worldwide criminal menace.
The RAIN gathers twice a month to plan crimes. Each meeting’s leader is set on a rotating calendar and is responsible for chairing the meeting and for bringing snacks. Together, the ninjas of the RAIN have perpetrated some of the most daring art robberies and bank heists in history.
They remain at large to this day.
“That’s it!” Samantha exclaimed. She marched around the room shouting at her brother with excitement. “Uncle Paul told me to watch out for the RAIN!”
Nipper stood still in front of the bookcase. He quickly did some math in his head. Twenty-three martial arts masters plus one. Twenty-four meetings.
“Once a year, there’s a meeting that nobody wants to go to,” he said.
“What are you taking about?” asked Samantha.
“Nobody wants snacks from a monkey,” he pointed out.