9 To Grill a Mockingbird

"What do you get when you cross a duck with a trash collector?" I asked myself. "Grease and quackers? No, that's not it. A trash can that flies? Nawww..."

This was one tricky clue. And who the heck was the Big Baboo? I knew I needed help. And I knew where to turn.

Across the playground, under a shady tree, sat Natalie Attired. She was a good friend. Natalie was also the smartest mockingbird around, and she never let anyone forget it.

"Hiya, Chet!" she said. "Care for a worm?"

She held out her lunch bag. Normally I prefer bugs. But my stomach said yes before my mouth could say no. I snatched a worm and chomped into it. Kind of rubbery.

"So what's shaking, Mr. Detective?" said Natalie.

"Mmm-hma-vhmph," I mumbled around the worm.

"Chasing some bad guys?"

"Mmmf, you might say that," I finally said. "Hey, Natalie, I—uh, I need your, uh—that is..."

"Ha!" she laughed. '"Natalie, I—uh, I need your, uh—that is...'" Natalie made her voice sound even more like me than I did.

"Hey, cut that out!" I said.

"'Hey, cut that out!'" she echoed in my voice.

My eyes narrowed. "Natalie—"

"All right, all right," she said in her normal voice. "I'm a mockingbird. Sometimes I mock." Natalie cocked her head. "So what were you trying to say before I interrupted?"

I took a breath and tried to start again. "Well, urn, you see—"

Natalie's eyes lit up. "Wait, don't tell me," she said. "You've found a clue you can't crack, so you want to borrow my brainpower."

I hate it when she's right. I tried to slip the rest of the worm back into her lunch bag. It limped away. I let it.

"Yeah." I sighed. "I need your help. What do you say?"

"Sure, I'll help you," she said. "But on one condition: If I solve your clue, you take me along when you investigate."

"But I'm a private /," I said. "Not a private we. All the best private eyes work alone."

"Okay," she said. "Fine with me. Solve it yourself." Natalie fluffed her feathers and poked her beak back into her lunch bag.

I swallowed my pride, along with the last bits of worm.

"All right, it's a deal," I said. I told her about Shirley's missing brother and showed her the strange drawing I'd found in Billy's desk.

"Hmm," Natalie said. She cocked her head. "Can't solve this without more information."

"Some help you are."

"Have you dug up anything else so far?" Natalie asked. She slurped another fat, juicy worm.

I looked away. Then I told her about the mysterious Big Baboo and the riddle that the Rat Sisters had given me.

Natalie laughed. "Man, don't you ever read joke books? I don't know any Big Baboo, but that other clue is so easy, I almost feel guilty."

"Oh yeah?" I said. "If you're so smart, what do you get when you cross a duck with a trash collector?"

"Down in the dumps," she said.

I smacked my forehead. The dumps! Of course—maybe Herman had dragged Billy to the city dump to beat him up. Or worse.

"That was so easy," I said. "Why didn't I think of it?"

Thankfully Natalie didn't answer me. She preened her feathers while a sly look came over her face.

"That's why every detective needs a partner," she said.

"Partner?! I never said you could be my partner."

"We'll talk about it on the way to the dump," said Natalie.