The lighthouse at the edge of Stain’d-by-the-Sea probably seemed like a fifth wheel to most people who saw it. Once it had towered over a cliff overlooking the churning waters of the sea, but since the sea had been drained away there were only a few remaining inkwells and the great, spooky expanse of the Clusterous Forest under the lighthouse’s watch. No ships could sail there, so there was no need for them to be guided by a beam of light. Furthermore, the lighthouse had once been the headquarters for Stain’d-by-the-Sea’s only newspaper, The Stain’d Lighthouse, but nowadays there was not enough ink for the news and hardly any people to read it.
But the lighthouse was not a fifth wheel, as there was someone who lived there who was still a fine journalist, even though The Stain’d Lighthouse had shut down. Her name was Moxie Mallahan, and she was a friend of mine, although she didn’t look very friendly as she opened the door.
“What’s the news, Moxie?” I said.
She frowned at me in her usual brimmed hat which, today at least, also seemed to be frowning. “Lemony Snicket,” she said.
It’s rarely good when someone says your full name, except perhaps when it’s at the end of “I have a package for.” “I know I haven’t been around lately, Moxie,” I said.
“I was bored,” Moxie said. “You know there aren’t many people our age left in this town.”
“Don’t get sore,” I said. “I’ve found us something I’m sure you’ll find interesting.”
“If it’s something to do with that girl who took that statue,” Moxie said, “I’m not interested at all.”
Moxie had helped me out on my previous case and had seen Ellington Feint disappear with the Bombinating Beast. “This has nothing to do with her,” I said, without saying her name and without knowing I was wrong.
Moxie didn’t stop frowning, but she looked like she was thinking of stopping. “So?”
“I’m looking for the Knight girl.”
“You and everybody else in town,” Moxie said. “I’ve seen that poster up everywhere.”
“Theodora and I are on the case,” I said, “but I need your help.”
She looked at me and thought. Behind her I could see the typewriter, which folded up into its own case. Moxie always had her typewriter handy so that she might take notes on what was going on. I knew her curiosity about things that went on in town meant she would let me into her home, and I was right. Before I stepped inside, I called to the Bellerophon brothers and asked them if they’d mind waiting. They didn’t, as long as I’d give them another tip if they gave me another ride. I said sure. The tip I’d given them for the ride to the lighthouse was the tip about the author’s books that aren’t really written by the author. It was an old tip, as I had already given it to Jake Hix. But it was the only tip I had handy.
I followed Moxie into her kitchen. There was a pot of coffee bubbling away, so I knew her father was somewhere close by, but Moxie did not mention him, just sat me down at the table and put her typewriter between us.
“What’s going on with the case?” she asked. “Where is Cleo Knight? When did she go missing? Who have you talked to? How about some tea?”
“No, thank you,” I said, answering only the last question. “But I was hoping you could cut my hair. I haven’t seen a barbershop in town.”
“The last one closed,” she said, “but I’m not cutting your hair, Snicket, until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell you,” I said, “while you cut my hair. A haircut can help solve this case. Get a bowl, will you?”
She gave me a skeptical look. Being skeptical is a good thing for a journalist, because it means you don’t completely trust anyone. I tried to give her an it’s-good-to-be-skeptical-but-please-don’t-be-skeptical-right-now look back. I don’t know if my look was understood, but she fetched a pair of scissors and a small bowl, which she placed upside down on my head. It is my great hope that this portion of the story, should it ever be published, is not illustrated, as a person looks like a fool with a bowl over his head. Moxie clicked the blades of the scissors together and started cutting, and I started my story.
“Cleo Knight woke up yesterday morning and had her usual breakfast of Schoenberg Cereal,” I said. “She was wearing brand-new clothes that were black and white, and an old hat that was somewhat pink. She ran away to join the circus and didn’t leave a note, but that couldn’t have happened, because she’s a brilliant chemist, not a circus performer, and the people who know her best say she definitely would have left a note. She was seen at Partial Foods by Polly Partial at ten thirty buying Schoenberg Cereal and leaving in a taxicab, but that couldn’t have happened, because she’d driven there in her brand-new Dilemma.”
“That’s a nice car,” Moxie said.
“Mind the ears,” I said. “Now, Cleo Knight was also seen at Hungry’s by Jake Hix, also at ten thirty, and she left in the Dilemma. But that can’t have happened, because the Dilemma is parked nearby with a flat tire.”