Chapter 11

This mystery was a mess. The Snack Snatcher had struck for the third time. Our plan to snap photos of the thief in action was crushed like the door sensor. And our client looked more guilty every minute. But for this first time since taking this case, I was happy.

“Why are you smiling, Myron?” asked Principal Rainer.

“There is food everywhere,” I said.

“We see that,” Mr. Harpel said. “Poor Mr. V. has to clean it all up again.”

I turned to Mr. V. “But you haven’t started cleaning yet. Right?”

Mr. V. shook his head. “Haven’t had time! I went to the roof when I got here this morning. The hole caused by the storm is still leaking.”

“Perfect,” I said.

“How is that perfect?” Hajrah said. “The Snack Snatcher struck again, but we have no photos and still no idea who is behind the messes. We have nothing.”

“Wrong,” I said. “Finally, we have an untouched crime scene.”

The first two times the Snack Snatcher struck, I arrived at the crime scene after someone had already walked through the evidence or started cleaning it up. This time it was untouched. A perfect mess, ready to be investigated. I stepped carefully into the kitchen.

And that’s when I saw them. Tracks through the spilled pizza sauce. A little path of tiny footprints. They looked almost like little handprints. Four fingers and a thumb with long nails. There were dozens of them. They went through the sauce, across the floor, and up the wall. They led to a small air vent high in the ceiling.

A movement outside the window caught my eye. Hajrah stood beside me, and I knew she had seen it, too. She tugged on the hem of her jacket. Her brain worked through the same clues until her eyes lit up.

“Outside,” she whispered, looking at me.

I nodded, then turned to the others.

“Everyone meet me outside! And, Mr. V., could you bring your ladder, please?”

We gathered outside the school right in front of the kitchen window. Mr. V. arrived with his ladder. Glitch looked through the glass into the kitchen.

“What’s this all about, Myron?” she said. “The mess is inside, not out here.”

“Very true, Glitch,” I said.

Hajrah stood by a bush near the little group of trees that ran along the side of the school.

“But the answer to this mystery is out here.” Hajrah turned to the bush as if she was speaking to it. “Isn’t that right?”

“Don’t worry,” I said to the bush. “You can come out. We won’t hurt them.”

“You promise?” said a voice from the other side of the branches.

“We promise,” Hajrah said.

“Okay,” said the voice. A red-faced and auburn-haired figure stood up from her hiding spot.

“Smasher!” Mr. Harpel said.

Smasher stepped out of the bushes. She wore the same black jacket as Glitch. As she climbed over the hedge, I saw what was on the back: a red soccer ball that looked like a fireball.

“You stole the morning snacks!” Principal Rainer said.

“No, I didn’t,” Smasher said.

“She’s right,” said Hajrah. “Smasher isn’t the Snack Snatcher.”

Principal Rainer let out a big sigh. “Then who is?” she asked.

“They are.”

I pointed to the roof near the kitchen. A plastic sheet covered the hole caused by the storm. A small head covered in brown fur with a large black patch over the eyes peered out from under the sheet.

“Smoky!” Hajrah squealed. “You’re alive!”

Two more furry heads poked out from under the sheet.

“And she’s not alone,” said Glitch.

“Principal Rainer,” I said, “meet the Snack Snatchers.”