Chapter 28
May 9
I have to wait two whole days to see Bovano, since yesterday was Sunday and we went to my grandma’s for a Mother’s Day lunch. She makes the best chocolate cake in the world. I start salivating even thinking about it.
But now it’s back to work, back to reality. Back to the police station.
“I need to speak with him,” I tell Marilyn. “Please tell him it’s urgent.”
Bovano is in his office with the blinds drawn and is refusing to see me. Marilyn isn’t cooperating either. She’s standing at her desk, edging toward Bovano’s door as if she’ll block it if need be. I guess she’s still a little wary about the time I ran by her and barged into his office. I hope Bovano didn’t yell at her about it.
“Eddie, he’s in a meeting right now, hon. Just leave your message with me and I’ll make sure he gets it.” She pulls a pen from behind her ear, ready to jot down a note.
What do I say? Hey, Detective Bovano, I snuck a peek at your case files and I think you’ve got it all wrong. And I still think your cop friend Alisha is in on it. And there are three unguarded Picassos where you’re not looking.
He’ll kill me for sure.
“Thanks, Marylin,” I mumble, turning away. “I’ll try him again tomorrow.”
One week till it’s all over. End game.
May 10
Jonah’s mom calls before school on Tuesday. He’s über-sick and is on antibiotics. She wants me to get his schoolwork.
Unforeseen Problem #4: Best friend and codetective is down for the count with a sinus infection.
At school I’m lonely and itching to talk about the case. Plus I’ve come to realize that not only does Jonah provide entertaining dialogue and amusing antics, but he is also my own personal bully buffer. It’s not something I’m proud of.
The strike comes sixth period, just outside the science classroom.
“Hey, Edmund, where’s your girlfriend?” the troll grunts, grabbing the cap off my head.
“Hey!” I yell in my firm voice. The one my dad taught me.
“Hey, what?” Robin steps closer. The kid is a wall of beef. My dad didn’t tell me what to do after the firm voice thing. That was supposed to take care of the situation, not make it worse.
Up close, I can see that Robin Christopher has really weird facial hair, tufts of blond accentuating the red blotches on his skin. I can’t believe he’s got a beard at our age. Must be eating too many hormone-injected hamburgers.
I have no plan. I tremble a little and eyeball my hat in his hand. I want that cap.
Mr. Pee rescues me. “Robin, is that Edmund’s hat?” he asks as he hustles us into the classroom.
“Yeah. I was just checkin’ it out.” Robin sneers at me and throws the hat by my feet when we’ve lost Mr. Pee’s attention.
I understand now why Jonah hasn’t told anyone about the abuse. Intimidation stinks.
I walk to the station after school, bully aggravation churning in my veins. I’m not sure why, but now seems like the right time to confront Bovano. Blitz chess is on. I have nothing to lose.
I catch Bovano by the water cooler.
“What do you want, Eddie?” he grumbles at me while lumbering back to his cave with windows. “The case is being dropped next week.”
“I know, Detective, and I really need to speak with you. And I need you to listen.”
I follow him into his office. He sees me enter, and sighs. “You have two minutes. Don’t test my patience.”
We both sit. I’m happy that his large desk is between us. Where to begin?
“I have proof that Alisha is part of the crime.”
“Eddie, no. Get out. Do your parents know where you are?”
“I know about the geometric shapes on the map, Detective. I know that Lars Heinrich is planning a crime like the one in Paris.”
“How did you . . . Have you been looking through my files?”
“The map is in plain sight.” I gesture to the wall with my hand. “And you used the name Lars Heinrich at dinner.”
He starts to speak and then stops, mouth opening and closing like a confused guppy’s. He wants to yell at me, but realizes he may have slipped up. Of course, I don’t mention that he only used the name “Lars.”
When he finally speaks, his voice is low and shaky, stifling the anger he desperately wants to unleash on me. “Eddie, there are things going on that you have no idea about. We have a lot of people working the situation. You gonna be a Boy Scout and try to solve it? I’m going to call your parents right now. You are way past overstepping your role here.”
“I know that the markers on the map form thirty-, sixty-, and ninety-degree angles with the Guggenheim. And that all vectors lead to the Guggenheim. That’s where you think the robbery will take place.”
“What? That is confidential information! Did you break into the chief’s office? How—”
“I have my people too. We figured it out. And we think it’s a setup.” I pull out my crinkled peanut butter map and smooth it out on his desk to show him the proof. “But the angles pattern is wrong. The real crime is on a civilian block. It’s a chess game, Detective. Involving Alisha and the Winston Café . . . she’s a part of the Picasso Gang.”
Bovano goes nuclear with rage. “That gang name was in a CLOSED FILE. NOT ON A WALL OR INVENTED IN SOME TWEEN THINK TANK. YOU HAVE BEEN SNOOPING IN MY DESK!!!”
He stands and clumps toward me, hands shaking like he will choke the life out of me right here, right now.
“No, you can’t prove that,” I stammer, leaping from my chair and hustling backwards until my back presses against the office door. My panicked fingers grapple to find the doorknob. I make contact.
“YOU STEAL FILES FROM ME, TELL YOUR BUDDIES ABOUT THE CRIME, ABOUT BEING EDDIE RED! YOU’RE FIRED!” he thunders. “GET OUT!!”
I twist the knob, shove my shoulder hard into the wooden panel, and run. This definitely qualifies as an “always run” Nike defense situation.
I can’t call getting fired an Unforeseen Problem. I guess I saw it coming a mile away.
So much for a blitz.