THEY SAT DOWN ON TWO WHITE BENCHES IN THE GRASSY area, and on the low iron railing surrounding it, and furrowed their brows. The boy known as the Professor seemed to have been waiting for this day. He kept taking off his horn-rimmed glasses, just like his father the judge would do, and fiddling with them as he devised his plan.
“There is a distinct possibility,” he began, “that we will have to separate later on for practical reasons. That’s why we need a telephone operator. Who here has a phone?”
Twelve boys raised their hands.
“And of those who have telephones, who has the most levelheaded parents?”
“Probably me!” shouted little Tuesday.
“Your phone number?”
“Bavaria 0579.”
“Here’s some paper and a pencil. Crumbagel, please prepare twenty strips of paper and write Tuesday’s phone number on each one. But make sure it’s legible! And make sure we each get one. The telephone operator will always know where the detectives are and what is going on. If any of you need information, then just call up little Tuesday and he’ll give it you.”
“But I won’t be there,” said little Tuesday.
“Yes, you will,” replied the Professor. “As soon as we’re finished with our council meeting here, you’re going home and manning the telephone.”
“Oh, but I’d rather be out here with you guys when that guy gets caught. Little kids can come in handy with things like that.”
“You’re going home and staying by the phone. It is an important job and a big responsibility.”
“Oh all right, if you say so.”
Crumbagel distributed the telephone numbers. And the boys all carefully put the strips of paper away in their pockets. A few particularly diligent ones learned the number by heart.
“We should have some backups, too,” said Emil.
“Naturally. Anyone who isn’t absolutely necessary for the chase will stay here at Nikolsburg Square. You’ll take turns going home. Tell your parents you might be out late tonight. A few of you might even say you’re spending the night at a friend’s. This is so we’ll have substitutes and reinforcements in case we don’t catch him before tomorrow morning. Gus, Crumbagel, Arnold Middleday, his brother, and I will all call our parents and tell them that we’ll be home late…. And Truegut will go with Tuesday as a go-between and run to Nikolsburg Square when we need someone. So that gives us detectives, reinforcements, a telephone operator, and a go-between. All the basic divisions are taken care of.
“We’ll need something to eat,” Emil pointed out. “Maybe a few of you could run home and get some sandwiches.”
“Who lives closest to here?” asked the Professor. “Middleday, Gerold, Freddie the Great, Brunot, Zerlett! Get moving—and bring back some chow with you!”
The five boys jumped up and raced off.
“You knuckleheads! You keep going on about food and telephones and sleeping in shifts. But you haven’t given a thought to how you’re going to catch the thief. You’re a bunch of …a bunch of schoolteachers!” growled Truegut. He couldn’t think of anything worse to call them.
“Do you have a machine for reading fingerprints?” asked Petzold. “If he was really sly, he might have had gloves on. And then you won’t have any evidence.” Petzold had already seen twenty-two detective films, and anyone could see they hadn’t done him much good.
“Give me a break!” said Truegut, rolling his eyes. “We’ll just wait for the right moment, then steal back the money he stole from Emil!”
“No way!” said the Professor. “If we steal the money from him, then were just as much thieves as he is!”
“Oh, right!” retorted Truegut. “If someone steals something from me, and I steal it back, that doesn’t make me a thief!”
“Yes it does,” insisted the Professor.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” grumbled Truegut.
“I think the Professor is right,” Emil broke in. “If I take something away from someone in secret, then I’m a thief. It doesn’t matter if it belongs to him or if he stole it from me first.”
“Exactly,” said the Professor. “Do me a favor and lay off the clever speeches. They’re not helpful. So, it looks like we’re ready for the hunt. We still can’t know how we’ll bag our quarry. But we’ll figure something out. In any case, he has to give up the money voluntarily. To steal it would be idiotic.”
“I don’t understand,” said little Tuesday. “If it already belongs to me, then I can’t steal it. If it belongs to me, then it’s mine, even if it’s in someone else’s pocket!”
“Those are finer points that are hard to understand,” the Professor lectured. “Morally you may be right. But the court will condemn you anyway. Many adults don’t understand this either. But that’s how it is.”
“Have it your way,” Truegut said and shrugged.
“And make sure you’re sneaky! Are you good at sneaking?” asked Petzold. “If you’re not, he’ll turn around and see you. Okay, so long!”
“Yeah, it’s important to know how to sneak,” little Tuesday confirmed. “That’s why I was thinking you could use me. Boy, can I ever sneak! I’d make a really great police dog. I can even bark.”
“Try sneaking in Berlin and see if no one notices you!” Emil exclaimed. “If you really want everyone to notice you, all you need to do is start sneaking around.”
“But you’ll need a pistol!” Petzold advised. He just wouldn’t let up with the suggestions.
“Yeah, a pistol!” shouted two or three others.
“No,” said the Professor.
“The thief has one for sure,” Truegut wanted to bet.
“The situation is dangerous,” Emil confirmed. “So anyone who’s scared should go home and go to bed.”
“Are you calling me a coward?” Truegut asked and stepped into the middle like a boxer entering the ring.
“Order!” shouted the Professor. “You can clobber each other tomorrow! What is this? You’re acting like… like children!”
“Well, we are children,” said little Tuesday. And everyone laughed.
“Actually, I should write a note to my grandmother. My relatives have no idea where I am. They might even go to the police. Could someone deliver a letter for me while we’re going after that guy? They live at 15 Schumann Street. I’d really appreciate it.”
“I’ll do it,” said a boy named Bleuer. “But write fast! So I can make it there before they lock the building door.
I’ll take the subway to Oranienburg Gate. Who’ll spot me the cash?”
The Professor gave him money for the fare. Twenty cents, there and back. Emil borrowed a pencil and sheet of paper, and wrote:
Dear Grandma,
I’m sure you’re all wondering where I am. I’m in Berlin. But unfortunately I can’t come just yet, because there’s something important I have to take care of first. Don’t ask what it is. And don’t worry about me. I’ll come when everything’s been settled. I can hardly wait! The boy who’s giving you this letter is a friend of mine and knows where I am. But he can’t tell you. It’s an official secret. Give my love to Uncle Robert, Aunt Martha, and Pony the Hat.
Love, Emil
P.S. Mom sends her love, too. And I have some flowers, which I’ll give you as soon as I can.
Emil wrote the address on the other side, folded the sheet, and said, “Just make sure you don’t tell my relatives where I am or that the money’s out the window. If you do, I’m done for.”
“No problem, Emil!” said Bleuer. “Give me the telegram. When I get back, I’ll call up Tuesday to find out what’s happening. Then I’ll report to the backup team.” Then he raced away.
In the meantime the five boys had returned, bringing bags full of sandwiches with them. Gerold produced a whole sausage. His mother gave it to him. Or so he claimed.
The five boys had told their parents they might be out for a few more hours.
Emil distributed the sandwiches, and everyone stuck one in his pocket for reserve. Emil himself took responsibility for the sausage.
Then five other boys ran home to ask if they could stay out late. Two of them didn’t come back. Their parents probably wouldn’t let them.
The Professor gave them the code word. So that when anyone came or called on the phone, the others would know right away if he was one of them. The code word was “Emil!” That was easy to remember.
At that point little Tuesday told the detectives to break a leg, and he and Truegut, the grumpy go-between, took off. The Professor shouted after him, asking him if he would call his, the Professor’s, house and tell his father that he had an urgent matter to attend to. “That will reassure him, and he’ll be fine with it,” he added.
“Unbelievable,” said Emil. “Berlin parents are so cool!”
“Don’t kid yourself. They’re not all so wonderful,” said Crumbagel, scratching behind his ear.
“No, it’s true. On average they’re all right,” said the Professor. “It’s also very smart of them. That way they don’t get lied to. I promised my father that I would never do anything immoral or dangerous. And as long as I keep my word, I can do whatever I want. My father’s a good guy.”
“That’s great!” Emil said again. “But hey, what if things do get dangerous tonight?”
“Then the permission is cancelled,” said the Professor and shrugged. “He told me I should always ask myself if I would act any differently if he were there with me. And I know I wouldn’t tonight. Anyway, let’s get this show on the road.”
He planted himself in front of the group of boys and exclaimed, “The detectives expect you to do your job. We’ve set up the telephone hub. I’m leaving you my money. There’s a mark and fifty cents left. Here, Gerold, take it and count it. We have provisions. We have money. Everyone knows the phone number. One more thing: If anyone needs to go home, then beat it! But we need at least five people to stay. Gerold, you’ll be responsible for that. Show us that you’re real boys! In the meantime, we’ll be doing our best. If we need replacements, little Tuesday will send Truegut to you. Any questions? Have I made myself clear? Code word Emil!”
“Code word Emil!” the boys all shouted so loudly that Nikolsburg Square began to rumble and the people walking by all glared.
Emil was downright glad that he’d been robbed.