CHAPTER 19
hat afternoon, Jacob was picked up from school by a neighbor, as previously arranged by his parents, who were watching Noah in a basketball game at his school. There, waiting in front of Jacob Two-Two’s house, reading comic books, were three policemen.
“I’m Law,” said one.
“I’m Order,” said another.
“And I,” said the third, his chest thrust forward, “am the Officer-in-Charge.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Jacob Two-Two. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And you, you little squirt,” said Law.
“– must be the notorious Jacob Two-Two,” said Order.
“Confess.”
“Admit it.”
“Don’t you dare deny it,” said the Officer-in-Charge.
“But I didn’t. I didn’t,” said Jacob Two-Two.
“You are charged,” said Law.
“– with interrupting our beauty rest last night,” said Order.
“And making a phone call,” said the Officer-in-Charge, “that required us to go out on a wild-goose chase, breaking into Miss Sour Pickle’s apartment. That is a criminal offense.”
“I didn’t make that phone call!” said Jacob Two-Two twice.
“A likely,” said Law.
“– story,” said Order.
“And in due course,” said the Officer-in-Charge, “you may be obliged …”
“– to appear in juvenile court,” said Law.
“– before Mr. Justice Rough,” said Order.
“– who believes that all children,” said the Officer-in-Charge.
“– unless proven,” said Order.
“– innocent,” said the Officer-in-Charge.
“When my father comes home,” said a frightened Jacob Two-Two, “I’m going to tell him everything you said.”
A sudden change came over Law, Order, and the Officer-in-Charge.
“Why, you pint-sized criminal,” said Law, turning pale, “are you …”
“– threatening us?” asked Order, retreating a step.
“He sure is,” said the Officer-in-charge, “and that’s not very nice.”
“It’s horrid.”
“Shame on you.”
“Bully.”
Emboldened, Jacob Two-Two pointed at the first car to turn the corner. “There comes my bad-tempered, mean, two-fisted father right now,” he said.
“It’s every man for himself,” said the Officer-in-Charge.
And Law, Order, and the Officer-in-Charge raced for their car, stumbling, leading with the elbows, shoving, and pinching, each one trying to get into the driver’s seat.
“It’s my turn to drive,” said Law, kicking Order in the shin.
“No, it’s mine,” said Order, pulling Law’s cap down over his eyes.
“Forget it,” said the Officer-in-Charge, bopping both of them over the head with his nightstick. “I will be driving.”
And Law, Order, and the Officer-in-Charge stumbled into their car and were about to drive off, when Jacob Two-Two rapped on the window.
“What is it now?” asked the Officer-in-Charge, lowering his window.
“According to every police TV show I’ve ever seen,” said Jacob Two-Two, “if an emergency call is made to the station, a record is made of the phone number the call came from.”
“Are you trying to teach us,” asked Law.
“– our own business?” said Order.
“Smarty-pants,” said the Officer-in-Charge, and then the car roared off, brakes squealing.
But they had only gone a couple of blocks when the Officer-in-Charge said, “Maybe we should look into it.”
“Tomorrow,” said Law, yawning.
“Or the day after,” said Order, beginning to snore in the back seat.
A brooding Jacob Two-Two was still outside, raking autumn leaves, the first to fall, when he looked up and saw a parachute descending onto the next-door lawn. His heart leaped. It was Mr. Dinglebat, wearing a general’s uniform. As soon as he had landed safely, Jacob Two-Two helped him gather in his chute. “Boy, am I ever glad to see you, Mr. Dinglebat!”
“And me, you, dear boy, because we have more work to do.”
“I’m in such bad trouble,” said Jacob Two-Two, and he told his friend about all the things that had happened to him since they had been to Mr. I.M. Greedyguts’ office together.
“Not to worry, amigo, because we shall shortly proceed with the second step of our operation. But we will require back-up support. Helpers who are trustworthy.”
