WHODUNIT DETECTIVE AGENCY
                                   CASE NO. 2
                           THE CASE OF THE DRUG LORDS
                                  by Rick Moya


                           (March 1991; revised 1995)




     Brian Chavez hopped out of his brother Matt's Sentra and locked the
doors.  This was a 1990 model that Matt had made into a current 2002 model. 
Using the remote control, Brian closed the doors as he charged into the
Papa Felipe's restaurant , ten minutes late.
     Kim Humphreys, his girlfriend, was waiting for him in the lobby. 
"They still haven't called us," she said.  "They're really packed tonight."
     "I'm not surprised.  It's Friday night.  People like to go out to eat
at restaurants that have waiters on Friday," Brian answered.
     A waiter came up to the front counter and said, "Chavez, party of
two."
     "Hey, wow!  And I just got here too," Brian commented. "It's amazing
what you can do if you're one of the two smartest sixteen-year-olds in the
U.S."
     Kim groaned playfully as they sat down at their table.  They looked at
the menus posted on the wall.  When they had decided on what to eat, they
pushed the call button on the wall.
     Papa Felipe's was one of the few restaurants left in Albuquerque that
still had waiters.  They were dressed in sixteenth-century Spanish clothes.
A waitress rushed to their table and took their orders.
     "Spence would really get a kick out of this place," Kim said,
referring to the only member of their division of the detective agency that
was from San Antonio.
     The Whodunit Detective Agency, Art Valles, owner and proprietor, had a
record of a hundred and seven for a hundred and ten criminals nabbed.  Last
December, Brian, his twin brother Matt, Kim, and Matt's girlfriend Laura
Gordon had taken part in a nationwide test.  The top ten scorers were flown
to Newark, New Jersey, to participate in another test.  From there, the top
five scorers--the four of them plus Spence Post--went to Seattle, where
they found out about the agency.
     In some ways, the junior agency had a lot of similarities to the
fictional PROTECTORS, a spy team that was thought up by the author Zachary
Blue.  They were a group of five kids that solved crimes around Washington.
     Thinking about their last case, nicknamed "The Case of the Gemini
Emeralds" by Matt, Brian thought how they had tricked the criminal Miguel
Harboreo into thinking that Laura's house key was the key to the geology
museum in Newark.
     Returning to the subject, Brian said, "Well, how come you don't invite
him to Albuquerque?"
     "Sorry to spoil your fun, guys."  Spence's voice came from behind
Kim's ear.  His voice reverted to a black person's accent.  "But I already
be here."
     "Spence!"  Kim seemed genuinely pleased.  "What are you doing here and
why are you talking to my ear?"
     Spence chuckled.  "Only Kim would turn a friendly greeting into a
sarcasm match.  Art sent me a letter and a ticket to fly up here. I think
we have another case."
     "How come we didn't get a letter then?" Brian asked.
     "Beats me."  Spence shrugged.  "Maybe he couldn't decide how to word,
`Hey, guys.  We got a case in ABQ and I'm comin' down.'"
     "Either that or he wanted to surprise us," Brian said.  "I guess we'll
see at the airport.  Did the letter say when he was coming?"
     "Yeah."  Spence pulled a nylon wallet out of his back pocket and took
out a letter.  "It says here the second of March.  Hey, that's tomorrow!"
     "How much do you want to bet Laura got the letter after school and
forgot to call us?" Kim said.
     "Just because Art used our house as the rendezvous point last time
doesn't mean he had to do it again, " Brian agreed.
     "Oh, yeah," Spence said.  "I'd forgotten that was where Art got to
you."
     After talking for a while, the food for both tables arrived. Spence
changed tables when he got his food so he could catch up on the gossip
about the "Twins and Two Girls", as Spence had cleverly dubbed them, and
tell some of his own.  By the time they left, they had caught up with the
news for the past two months. Since both Kim and Spence had taken the bus,
Kim because she sensed that Brian would be late again and Spence because he
didn't have a car, Brian drove Spence to his hotel and Kim home.
     "Pick me up tomorrow so we can go get Art," Kim said.
     "Tomorrow it is," Brian said.  He kissed her goodnight and went back
to the car.
     As he was driving from the Heritage East section, he thought about how
large it had gotten in the 1990s.  Suddenly, the car phone rang.  Since it
was voice-activated, all Brian had to do was say, "Hello?"
     "Brian!"  Laura's voice came over the intercom.  "It's Laura.  I just
got a letter by Federal Express.  Art's coming tomorrow and he needs us to
pick him up."
     "Spence is here, too," Brian responded.  "Kim and I saw him tonight."
     "Great!  Tell Matt, okay?"
     "I'm sure he'd rather have you tell him."
     "Be that way.  I'll call him.  See you."
     "Bye."  Brian had gotten to Dennis Chavez Elementary School. The PTA
had petitioned the city highway department in 1996 (right after his sister
had graduated from high school) and gotten a stoplight at Barstow and San
Francisco.
     Driving down Laura's street, he noted the modifications made by
Laura's brother, Mike, who now played basketball for the Albuquerque
Roadrunners.  Mike, a 6 foot 8 inch forward, had donated money to put a
clubhouse on the island between Roberts and Irwin.  He had also given money
to all the homeowners on the street, so that every house was two stories
tall. All the houses had a basketball hoop in memory of the way Mike had
helped them.
     The clubhouse was built around an eighty foot tall Douglas fir.  It
was three stories tall and had a watch tower, complete with binoculars and
logbook.  There was a lumberjack-type springboard next to a fireman's pole
that went down for forty feet.  There was a circular room built fifty feet
up that served as a thinking room and chemistry lab.  It was joined to the
rest of the clubhouse by a ladder.  Laura's brother Rick had said he wanted
to put it there, so Mike semiconsciously added it to the plan.
     Rick was 6' 6" and had wanted to pursue basketball, too, but a knee
injury had diverted him into computer programming.  He still shot with the
neighborhood kids and could even slam dunk the ball in Chris Gray's eleven-
foot high hoop.
     The hoop at the Johannsen house had never been removed, even when the
land was put up for sale, along with the land that the Anderson house had
stood on.  Since the land was easily sixty feet long, Kim's older brother
Kevin, a 7' 3" center on the Roadrunners, bought it to turn into a full-
length basketball court.  
     Kevin coached a YMCA basketball league, also named the Roadrunners, at
the court in his spare time.  The birch tree that had stood in front of the
Johannsen house had simply been moved back about thirty feet so that the
board that had been nailed up there by the children who lived there long
ago served as a balcony.
     Mostly teams out of first and second grade played at the court, since
the hoops were only seven feet high.  Sometimes, seventh and eighth grade
teams used it for slam dunk contests and three point shootouts.
     Brian preferred swimming to basketball.  That was the main reason why
he had asked Rick, Kevin, and their friend Chris Weathers to help cover the
once-outdoor pool at his house.  Of course, Chris couldn't resist putting a
plastic sheet on top of the pool and telling Brian, "It's done.  You can
swim now."
     Chris shaped up, and the four guys had soon covered the pool with a
Plexiglas dome and added a tunnel above ground leading to the house.
     Brian parked the Sentra in the driveway, sort of double parking in
front of his mom's car.  A red Testarossa indicated that Lindsay was
staying, probably just for the night.  Lindsay lived on the west side of
town, almost in Rio Rancho.  Occasionally, she came to spend a night at the
house that was once her home.
     Matt had once said that she came to be near Rick, her old high-school
boyfriend.  Brian had countered that it was probable, but he thought that
she came to swim and think over what was troubling her at the present
moment.  After all, swimming was what she did most of when she came over. 
Matt said nuts to that, she was just taking advantage of what she didn't
have at her own house.
     Brian decided that he wanted to go in through the back door. He locked
the car and went to the gate.  There, he used his wall-scaling technique to
get up the wall and over the padlocked gate. He had honed his skills to
perfection under the instruction of Mike.
     As he dropped to the ground, he hit a button on the remote-control of
his key chain to keep the alarm from going off.  The pet basset hound,
Clarence, ran up to greet Brian.  He patted the dog on its head and went to
the door in the tunnel leading to the house.
     When Chris had set up the tunnel, he had left no way onto the porch,
which also doubled as a greenhouse for the twins' dad, a botanist.  So
Kevin built a door in the tunnel, which was the only way onto the lawn from
the house.  Of course, Clarence had his pet door in the greenhouse under a
flower bench.
     As Brian entered the tunnel, a splashing sound told him that someone
was in the pool.  A towel sitting next to the door told him it was Lindsay. 
     Since his older sister had grown up around water(when they had lived
in San Antonio, they lived right next to a water park), she thought it was
better to wait until you hit the cold to dry off.  That way, you wouldn't
get sweaty.  Since the tunnel had no floor and the pool room was heated,
she left her towel on the grass.
     Brian entered the greenhouse.  He looked at all the plants his father
had gotten, especially the new one, a fruitless mulberry.  He shook his
head in wonder at how scientists could breed a tree to be fruitless when it
originally had fruit.  Then he went inside.
     Matt was lying on the couch, his 5' 11" frame filling it. He was
eating potato chips and watching an "I Love Lucy" rerun.  He looked up as
Brian entered, then offered him the half-eaten bag of potato chips.  "Want
some?"
     "No, thanks," Brian answered.  "I already ate.  Where are Mom and
Dad?"
     "They went to some Knights of Columbus party for Laura's grandpa.  He
just made Grand Knight.  Whoopee.  Anyway, they won't be back till about
three," Matt answered.
     "In that case, I'm sleeping at the clubhouse.  You wanna come?"
     "Sure.  Nothin' else to do around here," Matt said, putting on his
coat.
     They left a note for their parents and Lindsay, called their friend
Chris Gray and asked him to come, called Spence at the hotel, and called
Brian's friend Isaac Suarez at the taxi company to pick up Spence, since he
owed Brian a favor.  Brian took a chemistry set that he had gotten at
Christmas when he was eleven and Matt took a basketball.
     The brothers pulled down four of the hammocks made from cots that once
belonged to the Gordons' grandpa.  Each was missing at least one leg so the
Gordons' grandpa gave them to the boys willingly.
     Matt went to shoot baskets at "Kevin's Kourt", as it was called. 
Kevin Humphreys didn't even name it.  It was his two sisters.  Sarah
thought up the name and Kim painted it at half court, in the jump-ball
circle when she had measured the lots. Kevin had given that job to them,
admitting that they were more creative than he.  
     Brian used the ladder from the top of the clubhouse to the chemistry
lab.  He set his kit on a stool apart from the benches.  He then warmed up
with his favorite experiment, the colloidal suspension.  He made this from
the chemicals that had built up over the years.
     Brian then opened his own set and uncorked the beaker with the
chemical he was working on, a super-charged fertilizer.  He poured a bit
into a separate beaker and began work.
      When he had finished adding the last two chemicals, he put an iron
bar that had been part of a nail bar into the liquid.  He then attached a
wire to the bar and wired a closed circuit to a nine volt battery and
flipped one switch.  He put on a pair of safety goggles and flipped the
other switch.
     The chemical was immediately dehydrated.  All of the chemicals
crystallized, forming a solid substance.  Brian put the beaker over a
Bunsen burner to get the solid out of it.  He turned the beaker over and
the substance slid out of the beaker and landed on the counter.  It
shattered and a few pieces hit Brian's goggles.
     Brian picked up a piece of the chemical and put it in a beaker of
water.  He then picked up a flower pot with an avocado seed planted in it. 
He then turned back to the beaker of water.
     The substance had already dissolved.
     Shaking his head, Brian poured the beaker onto the dirt in the flower
pot.  He then noted that the substance dissolved instantly in water.
     Brian reread his notes.  They said:

        This formula contains:
          5 drops phosphoric acid
          5 measures pendimelithan
          2 drops ammoniac nitrogen
          10 measures potash
          15 drops carbon dioxide
        When subjected to 9 volts of electricity, the 
        substance crystallizes and can be melted.  It
        is subject to quick fracture when dropped.  
        The substance dissolves instantly in water.

     Brian swept the broken pieces into a pile and put them in a cloth bag. 
He hung the bag on a nail in the ceiling of the lab and started to climb
down the tree.  He saw a cab driving away, so he walked out on the
springboard and slid down the fireman's pole.
     As Brian hit the ground, Spence turned from the cabinet where kids who
played there stored their things.  "So this is the neighborhood clubhouse. 
I'm impressed," he said.
     "A computer scientist, a designer for Nintendo, and two famous
basketball players built it," Brian answered.  "They built it about ten
years ago, in the summer of '93.  Matt's up at the court playing
basketball.  Let's go up there."
     As Spence and Brian ventured up the quiet street, all that could be
heard was the pound of a basketball on asphalt.  Spence seemed to cower in
the presence of the large houses.  "How can this street afford to have such
big houses?" he asked.
     "Mike Gordon gave money to everyone," Brian answered.  "He always
wanted to live on a street where all the houses had two stories, but he
didn't want to move to Heritage East.  Sort of a homestead thing."
     As they neared the court, Brian and Spence could see Matt and Laura
playing a two-on-two game with Chris and his girlfriend, Heather Reese. 
Kim was refereeing. 
     Laura dribbled past half court and was guarded by Chris, who was a
good guard despite his 6' 7" height.  Laura dribbled behind her back and
between her legs so many times so that when she finally grabbed the ball
and pump-faked, Chris took the fake. She then passed the ball to Matt under
the basket, who slam-dunked the ball with vigor.
     Chris and Heather fought back, though.  Chris drove into the lane and
just when it looked like he was going for a dunk, he passed to Heather
outside the three-point arc.  She shot it and the ball ripped through the
cords without touching the rim.
     Brian and Spence walked around the court to the birch tree and climbed
the two rungs to the balcony.  They watched the game until Kim called it. 
The score was Matt and Laura, 86, to Chris and Heather, 89.  This was a
high score despite the fact that there were only two people on each team.
     "You cheated," Matt said to Chris as they were walking to the water
fountain leaning against the tree.  "Every time Kim looked away, you pulled
or reached in."
     "Let's just be glad there were no tripping fouls," Heather said as she
approached them.
     "Or shoving," Laura agreed.  "I hate to think what would happen if
someone fell on this court."
     "You remember that time we were playing here in the fourth grade?"
Brian asked as he slid down the rope.
     "Oh, yeah," Matt said.  He turned to Chris and did an impression of
the ref that they had been given that day.  "Chris, this is a basketball
court--not an ice hockey rink."
     "It wasn't my fault," Chris protested.  "I was driving into the lane
and this little dude ran right in front of me."
     Matt, Brian, Kim, and Laura laughed.  "Chris," Laura choked out, "that
was exactly what you said that day."
     "I know," Chris mumbled.  "Do you think I don't remember? The little
guy had to go to the hospital because I knocked him down.  At least he
forgave me."
     "So this is Chris," Spence said, cautiously edging his way down the
rope.  "I've heard a lot about you."
     "It had better be good," Chris challenged, grabbing Matt by the
collar, "or this guy gets it."
     "Chill out, Chris," Matt squeaked.  "You were the only one I didn't
put down."
     "I'm satisfied," Chris said, letting go of Matt's collar.
     "I'm not," Heather said, glaring at Matt.  "What do you mean, Chris is
the only one you didn't put down?"
     "He didn't put anyone down," Spence said.  "That's his twisted idea of
a joke."
     "Well, now that we've gotten that established," Brian said, turning to
the girls, "how did you know we were here?"
     "You can hear the pound of a basketball on cement all the way down the
street," Laura said.  "I went onto the third floor balcony and saw Matt
shooting around with Chris.  Then I saw you working your butt off in the
lab.  I called Heather and Kim.  Go ahead and take the story, Heather."
     "Well, anyway," Heather continued, "I drove up to Heritage East and
picked Kim up.  Then we drove down here and reached the court just as Laura
was walking out.  We scared the pants off Matt and Chris.  The rest you
know."
     "This is getting boring," Chris complained, lofting his ball at the
nearest basket.  It bounced in off the backboard.  "Let's have a shooting
contest.  Guys have a slam-dunk on one end and girls have a free-throw on
the other.  The winners of each play each other."
     On the girls' end, Laura made thirteen out of fifteen over Heather's
eleven and Kim's ten.  All of her shots went in without touching the rim. 
     On the guys' end, Matt jumped in the air, did a three-sixty spin, and
tomahawk dunked the ball.  Spence bounced the ball between his legs so that
it bounced off the backboard and back into his hands.  Now airborne, he
slammed the ball backwards.
     There was no question about it.  The last contest was Spence against
Laura.  Chris tossed a coin and Laura won the toss. Spence would shoot free-throws first.
     Spence made eleven of his shots.  Laura, at eleven for fourteen, shot
her last one.  It hit the back of the rim, bounced high in the air, and
went through the net.
     Kim and Heather ran onto the court and mobbed Laura.  "I thought that
shot was out for sure!" Heather said.  "When it bounced, I thought, `It's
gone,' and then it hit!"
     "Where'd you learn that dunk, Spence?" Chris asked him.
     "My cousin taught it to me.  Since I'm a gymnast, it's a simple matter
for me to throw the ball hard enough for it to hit the backboard," Spence
answered.  "But you need to know where to stand, how hard to bounce the
ball, at what angle, and where to jump from."
     "Do you think you could teach me?" Chris asked.
     "Sure.  First, what size shoe do you wear?"
     "Thirteen," Chris answered sheepishly.
     "Perfect.  All you have to do is put your heel on the free throw line
and your other heel on that toe.  Where your front toe is, that's where you
need to stand."
     "Just a minute," Chris said, measuring.  "Okay, now what?"
     "Okay," Spence said.  "Now spread your feet about shoulder width. 
When you do that, stretch your arm so that it's on the back of your leg. 
Then you have to experiment to see how hard you have to bounce the ball. 
It should go off the backboard to right in front of the hoop."
     When Chris had finished that, he asked, "So where do I jump from?"
     "Okay," Spence said, "the jumping part.  You go out just past the
three-point line, then charge in and jump from the baseline, turning your
back to the hoop.  Then you grab the ball and dunk it."
     Chris put all this together and was surprised to discover that he
could do it.  "It works!" he exclaimed.
     "I'm always amazed by that when I do the dunk," Spence mused.
     "Let's get down to the clubhouse," Brian said.  "I'm tired."
     Matt let out a huge yawn.  "Me, too," he said.
     As they walked down the street, Spence spun Matt's ball on his finger. 
"Geez, Spence," Brian said in awe, "if you were black, you could be a
Harlem Globetrotter."
     "If you haven't learned to do this by the time you're sixteen, you're
an underdeveloped basketball player," Spence said.
     "I resent that remark," Chris said, trying to keep his spinning ball
balanced on his finger.
     "I bet I play water polo better than you," Brian challenged.
     "You probably do," Spence said.  "The only polo I've played in my life
is Marco Polo."
     When they got to the clubhouse, the girls went to the second floor,
while Brian headed for the lab to bring his chemistry set down.
     As he was mounting the ladder to the lab, he heard a funny scratching
noise.  Using his well-trained ear, he guessed it was coming from the lower
cupboard where the rake, shovel, and tree pruner were kept.  He jerked open
the door and a young boy, about nine or ten, ran out, holding the shovel
like a baseball bat.
      The kid swung the shovel.  Brian ducked and grabbed it.  He then
tripped the boy and pinned him down with the shovel.
     "Okay.  I want some answers," Brian said.  "First, why are you here
and second, why did you swing that shovel at me?"
     "I'm not talking," the boy said.
     Brian called down the stairs, "Hey, guys!  Come up here!"
     Spence was the first one up.  "Well, well.  Look who we have here."
     "Hey, Spence," the boy said, forcing a smile.
     "You know this kid?" Brian said.
     "Yeah, unfortunately.  He's Danny Floyd.  He used to live in San
Antonio, but he moved here.  Smartest nine-year-old in America, they say. 
He actually skipped four grades."
     "You're an *eighth* grader?" Chris said in disbelief.
     "Yeah.  Sorry, guys.  I didn't know Spence was with you," Danny said. 
"When I moved here, some real eighth graders..."
     "What do you mean, real eighth graders?" Heather asked. 
     "Doesn't a nine-year-old eighth grader sound surreal to you? I mean
thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds.  Anyway, they got me into their group. 
This group had the kind of kids in it that smoked and drank.  I didn't want
to be in it, but they said they'd beat me up if I didn't go in.  I believed
it, too.  The leader is this high school senior named Andy Ellis.  When he
told me to try the drugs..."
     "Wait a sec," Kim said.  You were in a gang where the leader *forced*
you to do drugs?"
     "Yes.  That's why I ran away.  And that's what I'm doing here." 
Looking at Brian, Danny said, "I thought Ellis had sent you to get me. 
That's why I wouldn't talk before."
     Laura gave Brian a look that said [Maybe this is our case!] Then Laura
spoke up.  "You stay here with us tonight, Danny," she said.  "All of us
except Chris and Heather are part of a detective agency.  We get a case
assignment tomorrow and you might be it!"

                                   *  *  *

     The next morning, Matt, Brian, Laura, Kim, Spence, and Danny went to the
airport.  They had to take the Gordon van because Matt's Sentra wouldn't seat
seven people.  Matt sat in the driver's seat with Laura next to him.  Spence
and Danny sat in the bucket seats and Kim and Brian sat on the back seat.
     Noticing a glint of sadness in Brian's eye, Kim asked, "What's wrong?"
     "Oh, nothing," Brian said.  "I was just remembering when Matt and I were
kids.  Andy Ellis used to be my best friend until he moved in sixth grade."
     "You knew Ellis?" Kim said, shocked.
     "He was my best friend," Brian repeated.
     Since it was a Saturday, the kids decided to turn the TV to channel 4,
where "Captain N: The Game Master" was on.  They saw it to the end, where
Mega Man shot Donkey Kong with his Arm Cannon and cleared the path so that
Kevin could run in and shoot the claws that Dr. Wily had invented to capture
Princess Lana.  As usual.
     All six of the people walked into the airport terminal. Matt and Brian
had their usual up escalator/down escalator race, except this time Danny went
up the stairs with them.  Danny won, which was a shock since Matt usually
won.
     When they arrived at Gate B9, Art was already waiting for them.  "Took
you long enough," he said, grinning.  "Who's your friend?" 
     "This is Danny Floyd," Kim said.  "Danny, meet Art Valles, our detective
leader."
     Danny and Art shook hands.  "I always wanted to meet a leader of a
detective agency," Danny said.
     "Why are you with these guys?" Art asked him.
     Danny opened his mouth to say something, but Spence stopped him. 
"Explain in the van," he said.  "We don't want to get stopped by autograph
hounds and motherly strangers.  One of Ellis's gang might be here."
     "Why would a drugged-out psycho be in an airport?" Danny asked.
     "Maybe Ellis told them to watch for you and he was afraid you might fly
out of town.  *I* don't know.  Just wait until we get in the car."
     From behind the pillar where he was standing, the boy turned off the
frequency of the walkie-talkie that tuned into the bug on Danny's shirt. 
Then he went to the courtesy phone hanging on the next pillar.
     "Ellis," he said, "this is Thompson.  Danny is with five kids and an
adult that are walking to the parking garage."
     Andy Ellis's voice came over the receiving end of the phone. "These are
the Whodunit Detective Agency.  Follow 'em.  We want that kid!"

                                   *  *  *

     On the way to Laura's house, Danny told Art about Ellis and his drug
gang.  When he had finished, Art nodded his head.
     "Andy Ellis, Albuquerque drug lord," he said.  "That's who we're after
on this case."
     "Yeah," Laura said.  "We figured we probably were."
     When they got to the Gordon house, the seven people piled out of the
van.  "Is there any place we can go to talk without being interrupted by
parents?" Art asked.
     "The clubhouse," Brian, Matt, Kim, and Laura said at the same time.
     Brian went on to explain, "Nobody will be in the clubhouse this early
Saturday morning.  Everybody's eating cereal and watching cartoons at their
house."
     The seven people walked down the street to the clubhouse. "Nice touch,"
Art said.  "A three-story clubhouse built around a nine-story tree on a
street with all two- or three-story houses."
     On the third floor, Kim and Laura got pillows to put on the benches that
Matt and Brian were setting up.
     "Now," Spence said, "what do you have to say?"
     "All I need to say that I haven't already," Art said, "is that Andy
Ellis has a hideout in the south valley.  We're going to split up into teams
of two and look for Ellis's hideout, his getaway car, and Ellis himself."
     "Can I help bust Ellis?" Danny asked.
     "Sorry, kid," Matt said.  "We're too afraid you might get hurt, so
you're staying at our place."
     "Aw, come on," Danny pleaded.  "I wanna see Ellis go behind bars."
     "You know," Brian said, "I think Danny really deserves this. If it's
okay with Art, we could call Chris and Heather and ask them to come."
     "Have they got any useful assets?" Art asked.
     "Well, Chris knows the city like the back of his hand and Heather was on
the girl's wrestling and football teams," Laura said.  "Does that help?"
     "I'm sure it does," Art said, chuckling.  "You can call them."
     "Great!" Laura opened a panel in the wall and pulled out a phone.
     "I wish I'd had a clubhouse like this in the seventies," Art said. 
"Three stories, benches with cushions, a phone line."
     "My brother was really thorough," Laura said, dialing Heather's number. 
"He put a phone in so that kids coming to play here or do their homework here
could call their parents without having to go anywhere else."
     When Laura was done calling Chris, Art said, "Now kids do their
*homework*  in clubhouses?"
     "Some kids like to do their homework outside," Laura said. "That's why
Mike put a deck on the top of the clubhouse.  Since there's a lab about
twenty feet above the top of the clubhouse, high school kids can do
chemistry, biology, and physical science up there."
     Pretty soon, Heather and Chris were in the clubhouse.  "So this is Art,"
Chris said.  "We hear a lot about the agency."
     "Is it mostly bragging on Matt's part?" Art asked.
     "Mostly," Heather said, grinning.
     "How come you guys always pick on me?" Matt asked.  "It seems like you
just want to peel me off and throw me on the ground like a scab."
     "Matt," Kim said, "you *are* a scab."
     "Enough insults," Art said.  "Let me give you the details. An outline of
the case for you two," he gestured at Chris and Heather, "is that you're
going to find a drug lord downtown. I'll separate you off--one who knows the
city, one who can defend themselves and another who knows how to talk to
people."
     "Matt can do that," Chris said.  "It's just that nobody ever listens."
     "Very funny," Matt said, tossing a pillow at him.
     "Okay," Art said, all business.  "We want Laura, Spence, and Heather in
one group.  Another will be Chris, Matt, and Brian. The last will be Kim,
Danny, and I."  Turning to Kim, he added, "I sure hope you know the streets."
     "I'm sure Danny does, anyway," Kim said.  "He was in this gang,
remember?"
     "Oh, yeah," Art said.  "Anyway, I'll give you two," he singled Laura and
Chris out, "these satchels.  Inside are CB radios, skeleton keys, and weapons
to defend yourself.  Laura's group will be looking for the car.  When you
find it, stab the tires with the knife that is inside.  Chris's group will
look for Ellis.  Brian, you walk in and talk to him while Matt and Chris will
wait outside.  On the word that Brian designates, run in and hold him at bay. 
And don't forget, you have the power to arrest him, since you are detectives. 
My group will look for his hideout.  It shouldn't be too hard with Danny on
my team."
     "Sorry, Art," Danny said helplessly.  "When they took me to the hideout,
they blindfolded me and threw me on the floor of the back seat.  They told me
they had a gun on me and would shoot me if I moved.  Frankly, I wouldn't put
it past them."
     "Oh, well."  Art shrugged.  "Anyway, when we find the hideout, we'll
call you over the CB.  Then you come and see if Ellis is inside.  If he is,
do the plan rehearsed.  Everybody ready to go?"
     "Yeah!" all eight kids chorused in unison.
     "All right!  Let's go bust some drugs!"
     The nine people poured out of the clubhouse.  Laura's group headed for
Heather's car, Chris's group headed for the pickup truck that Chris had
gotten for his seventeenth birthday.  That left Kim's group.
     "So, fearless leader," Danny said to Kim, "how do we get to the valley
now?"
     "Don't worry," Kim said.  "I'll think of something."

                             *  *  *             

     "Some way to travel," Danny said, puffing along on Brian's old bike.
     "You sure know how to pamper a guest, Kim," Art added, shifting into
gear on Matt's bike.
     "Well, what am I supposed to do?  Hire a limo?" Kim asked. "You're not
the only ones hating this so much that I'm gonna wipe out right here."  With
that, she plopped down onto the grass in front of Eugene Fields Elementary. 
This was the first elementary school in Albuquerque with two
stories.       
     "Some example you are," Art said, grinning.  He also sat down on the
grass.
     "Actually," Danny said, "every time Ellis sent someone to get us, it was
at this school.  I remember a left turn, a stop, then a right turn.  I felt
a bump and a sewer grate passing under the car."
     "That's something to go on," Kim said, cheering up.  "Do you remember
how many small bumps you came to before the turn?"
     "I'm not really sure," Danny said.  "I think about two."
     "Okay," Kim said eagerly.  "Which direction was the car pointing?"
     Danny stiffened as he looked down the street.  "Oh, god. It's Ellis's
car!  He's coming this way!"
     "Quick!  Get inside the school!" Art said.  "Ellis wouldn't risk going
inside."
     "Inside?  It's Saturday!"
     "Never mind!  They have a karate class and right after that a BCPR
basketball game!  Get inside!"
     As soon as Danny went inside, Art started to walk down the sidewalk
nonchalantly and Kim sat on her bike as if she were resting.  The car pulled
up to a stop at the front of the school. As the two hoods got out, Kim
recognized them.  It was Spence and Laura.
     As they walked to the front door, Kim said, "What are you guys doing? 
Art just told you to stab the tires, not steal the car!"
     "We had the skeleton key and were in the neighborhood, so we thought
we'd drop in," Spence said innocently.  "Are you saying that you don't
*approve* of this plan?"
     "Well, I must say it's an improvement on the original plan," Kim
admitted.  
     "Great!  So let's go!"  Spence walked over to the sidewalk and made a
hand signal down the street.  Heather edged her car out of an alley and drove
up the street.  Spence and Laura climbed in.  Spence yelled down the street
to Art, "Hey, Art! Pretty good nonchalant walk you have!  I almost didn't
recognize you!"
     Art turned around, saw Heather's car, and bolted back up the sidewalk. 
"You moron!" he exclaimed.  "Now Ellis's men know we're here!"
     "What do you mean, Ellis's men?" Spence said innocently. "We stole the
car from an alley between a hotel and a restaurant. Ellis and his guys were
nowhere in sight.  Don't be such a worrywart!"
     "Fine," Art said with a sigh.  "Kim, go inside and find Danny.  Explain
this to him and convince him to come out."
     As Kim went inside, Art turned to Spence, Laura, and Heather.  "I can't
believe this," he said.  "Do you know what you just did?"
     Heather looked at Laura with eyes that said [What's he going to do to
us?]  Laura looked back at her, face saying [I have no idea.  He's never done
this before.]
     Art continued.  "Young people actually did something without my telling
them!  This is amazing!"
     Heather let out a sigh of relief.  At this, Art was no longer able to
keep a straight face.  He cracked up. 
     "I bet you thought I was going to do something bad to you, right?" he
hooted, tears streaming down his cheeks.  "I bet you thought I was going to
suspend you from the case or worse!"
     "You're right," Spence admitted.  "I was scared for a minute."
     "Okay," Kim said, coming out of the school with Danny, "let's go to that
alley!"
     Five minutes later, the cars arrived at the alley.  "Where was the car
parked exactly?"
     "No need to answer that one," Danny said.  "I remember going up a flight
of stairs and then being taken into a room."
     "So I guess we need to go upstairs," Spence said, entering the hotel. 
"Come on."
     The six people walked into the lobby.  They went up a flight of stairs
and came to a hallway.
     "Now what, fearless leader?" Laura asked Danny.
     "Got an idea.  Spence and Art, grab my shoulders," Danny requested.  Art
gave Spence a strange look, but did as he was asked.
     "Now pull me down the hallway," Danny said.
     "You sure you want to do this?" Art said incredulously.
     "Just do it," Danny answered.
     Somewhat dubiously, Spence and Art halfheartedly tugged at Danny's
jacket.
     "Pull me!" Danny practically screamed.  
     Spence gave Art a look that said [Let's do it!]  They began dragging Danny down the hall.
     "Faster," Danny said.
     "Okay," Spence said.  He matched the speed of the goons that had taken
Danny to the room every day.
     After about ten seconds, Danny said, "Stop.  Right here. That room."  He
pointed to the door of room 215.
     "Let me check," Laura said.  She knocked on the door of the room,
calling in a boy's voice, "Pizza delivery!"
     A loud voice from inside the room yelled, "Andy didn't order no pizza!"
     Another voice said in a hoarse whisper, "Shut up, Thompson! They might
be the cops!"
     "Oh, sorry," Laura said, "wrong address."  She had heard all she needed
to.
     "This is the place, all right," Kim said excitedly.  "Art, gimme that
walkie-talkie.  I'm gonna call Brian."
     As they walked out of the hotel, Kim filled Brian in on the details,
telling him how Laura had tricked the hoods into saying Ellis's name.       
     "I knew she was good for something," Brian joked.  "We'll be right
there."        
     About five minutes later, Chris's truck pulled up in front of the hotel. 
Matt, Brian, and Chris hopped out.
     "I heard about how you tricked those druggies," Matt said, giving Laura
a hug.  "Great job."
     Turning to Brian, Spence said, "You wanna try that trick we pulled on
Harboreo in Newark?"
     Brian shook his head.  "Ellis used to be my best friend in the world. 
If talking to him doesn't work, I don't know what will."
     "Brute force?" Spence suggested.
     Brian shot him a look.
     Spence raised his hands in surrender.  "Just kidding."
     Brian started to climb the stairs.  It wasn't long before he heard
footsteps behind him.
     "Look, Spence, I already told you..." he said, turning around.
     "Don't insult me like that," Matt said playfully.  "I don't look half
that bad."
     Brian turned back to the stairs.
     "I came because Andy was my friend too," Matt said, following him.  "If
we together can't convince him, then I'll call Chris and he should tell the
others."
     "Good idea."
     They got to the hotel room that Laura had told them.  Brian knocked on
the door.
     "I told ya, kid, we didn't order no pizza!" a voice growled.
     "It's me, Andy," Brian said.  "Brian Chavez.  Open the stupid door."
     The door opened a crack.  "It's two of those Whodunit kids, Andy!" a
voice said.
     "I said shut up, Thompson!  Let `em in."  Ellis's voice was as hard as
steel.
     Brian and Matt stepped into the room. As soon as they were in, a guy
slammed the door and locked it.
     "Hello, Andy," Brian said calmly.  "I see you've changed."
     "Hello, Brian."  Ellis got up from a chair and extended his hand.  "What
did you expect?  It's been five years."
     "You guys know each other?" the guy asked.
     "Shut *up*, Thompson!"  Ellis turned back to Brian.  "That's Thompson,
my right-hand man.  Although he has the IQ of a walnut, he's very obedient."
     Brian shook Ellis's hand warily.  "I guess I should get right down to
the point of the matter.  As you probably know, Matt and I are members of the
Whodunit Detective Agency.  As you definitely know, you are the biggest drug
dealer in the whole of Albuquerque.  So...well, just put two and two together
and see what you get."
     "You guys know I'm not giving up without a fight," Ellis said, picking
up a huge wad of money.  "Lots of fighting gained me this."
     "Don't be an idiot, Andy!"  Matt sounded exasperated. "We've got seven
people downstairs that I can call with the push of a button!  Despite the
fact that you are an awesome fighter, you can't beat those odds."
     "How much would you like to bet?" Ellis taunted.
     "I bet all the money in this room that you couldn't defend it for five
minutes.  Look at the facts.  Brian is a karate champion.  I'm on the
wrestling team.  We have two gymnasts that, once they got moving, you
wouldn't be able to see, much less touch.  We have a six foot seven inch
basketball player, a girl trained in street self defense, and a guy who knows
every fighting technique known to man."  Matt sighed.  "Like I said, even you
can't beat those odds."
     "You're probably right," Ellis conceded.  "But remember fourth grade?"
     "Only too well," Brian said.  He remembered Steve Albertson, the school
bully, who had been extorting money.  If you didn't have any, or just refused
to give it to him, you got scraped off the wall by the janitor with a
spatula.  He had stolen Ellis's money once too often and Ellis decided to do
something about it.
     "Remember?"  Ellis's voice brought Brian back to reality. "Remember how
he laughed at the thought of a wimpy little fourth grader even fighting him? 
Remember how the ambulance helicopter landed in the middle of the grass field
and carried him off? Remember how he sported a nose splint and a chest cast
for six months?"
     "Andy, this is different."  Brian was almost pleading. "There are nine
of us to only two of you.  You could be the one on the operating table this
time."
     Ellis turned his back.  "Yes," he said.  "I appreciate hat you're trying
to do for me.  So much that I almost hate to do this."  He whirled around. 
There was a .51 laser pistol in his hand.
     "Ten blasts in the clip.  More than enough for you and your friends,"
Ellis said, leveling the gun.
     "Well," Brian said, "what will you do about the report?  Or us
screaming?" 
     Ellis laughed, a cruel, mirthless laugh.  "Don't you think I thought
about that?  That's why I chose a hotel with soundproof walls."
     "That shot down my idea," Brian muttered to Matt.
     "That's not funny," Matt muttered back.  Then, in a clearer voice, he
said, "Well, Andy, we still have something you don't anymore."
     Ellis laughed again.  "What more could I possibly need?  I have money. 
I have a real car, not a piece of crap.  I even almost have the entire WDA
dead.  I ask again--what else do *you* have?"  While he said this, Ellis was
gradually relaxing.
     It was the moment of a lifetime--which might have ended soon had Matt
not thought when he did to try and make Ellis overconfident. Brian took this
opportunity to kick the gun out of Ellis's hand.
     "We have the element of surprise," Matt said, pushing the button.
     Brian grabbed the gun, put the safety on, and leaned out the window. 
"Art!" he yelled, throwing the gun over to the group.
     Art caught the gun by the muzzle just as the box on Chris's belt beeped. 
"That's Matt's signal!" he yelled.  "Let's go!"
     When they got to the room, the group saw Brian dodging punches from
Ellis and Matt wrestling with another guy who had obviously jumped him.  He
was hanging on Matt's back, choking him.
     Chris and Kim charged over to Matt and started to pry the guy off of
him.  Kim grabbed the rope that the guy was using and ripped it out of his
hands.  Chris grabbed him by the back of the neck and the legs and pulled him
off Matt.  Matt dropped to the floor, gasping for breath.
     "Taste plaster, sewer scum!" Chris yelled as he threw the guy he was
fighting against the wall.  He slammed into the wall full force and fell on
the floor, semi-conscious.
     Spence dove into a flying roll and, hitting the ground, rolled between
Brian and Ellis.  Stunned, Ellis backed away. This gave Spence the perfect
opportunity to kick upward into Ellis's stomach.  Ellis fell to the ground,
winded.
     "Fight your own fight, Chavez!" he gasped.
     Brian just smiled.
     Art pulled out the gun and pointed it at Ellis.  "Freeze!" he yelled
     Ellis wasn't done yet.  He whipped a jackknife out of his pocket and
flicked it open.  Reaching out for a hostage, he grabbed Heather by the hair
and pulled her over, pressing the knife against her neck in one smooth
motion.  
     "Not so fast, man!" he said.  "Shoot!  Go ahead!  You'll hit her, not
me.  If you miss, I cut her.  Just get out of the way behind me.  And drop
that gun!"  He gestured towards Art.
     Feeling the cold steel against her throat, Heather gulped. She knew that
detective work was not a game and that she was no longer in elementary school
in Tucson.  "Do it!  Please!" she pleaded.
     Art flipped the gun so that the barrel was pointing up, dropped it, and
joined all the others.  All except Chris, that is.
     "What the hell is he doing?" Matt whispered to Art.
     "I think I know," Art whispered.  "Watch."
     Ellis bumped into Chris's crossed arms.  Letting go of Heather and
swinging the knife full front, he said, "Hey, I told you..."
     It was all he got out before Chris punched him in the face. Ellis
dropped the knife.  Heather scooped it up, twisted one of Ellis's hands
behind his back, and put the knife to his throat.
     "How does it feel to be at the other end?" Heather mocked.
     "That does it!" Ellis screeched.  Now you're dead!"
     "On the contrary," Art said calmly.  He had snatched up the gun and
pointed it at Ellis's chest.  "I would say you're the one that's 'dead'."  He
turned to Heather.  "Drop the knife and grab his other wrist," he instructed.
     Heather did so, releasing a handful of red hair that Ellis had ripped
out when he was punched by Chris.
     "Sorry," she told him, "but you just got a clump out of my head and now
it's payback time."
     Without moving the gun, Art threw a pair of handcuffs to Spence.  "You
know what to do."
     Spence said, "I don't know.  I think someone else should have this
honor."  With that, he handed the cuffs to Danny.
     Danny walked to Ellis's back and put the handcuffs on him as Spence
recited, "You have the right to remain silent.  If you choose to give up that
right, anything you say..."
     Thompson opened his eyes.  He saw Danny handcuffing Andy and Spence
reading his rights.  He sat up and looked beside him. Chris had unknowingly
thrown him against the wall right beside the suitcase of money.  He picked it
up and ran out the door.
     Only Kim saw him go.  "Uh, guys," she said, "don't you think that we
should watch that other guy?"
     "Stop him!" Ellis yelled.  "He's getting away with my money!"
     Chris whirled around, facing the wall where he had thrown that scumbag. 
He and a gray suitcase that was against the wall were both missing.
     "Go!" Art told the detectives.  "The others and I are going to stay with
Ellis!"
     Danny started to complain.  "Aw, why can't I--"
     "`Cause you're a shrimp," Matt said, running to the second story fire
escape.  "Besides, you're already number two on Thompson's hit list."
     "Who's number one?"  Chris mused.
     "You!" Matt yelled, jumping.
     He landed from the thirteen-foot fall right in a hedge--a thornless rose
bush.  He picked himself up and charged over to Chris's truck.  It was
locked.  "Damn!" he yelled.
     Suddenly, he spotted a Pizza Hut truck that still had its motor running. 
He revved the truck just as Brian, Spence, Kim, and Laura hopped in the bed. 
     "Let's go!" Brian yelled in the side window as Spence hit the ground.
     Matt didn't have to be told twice.  He stomped on the accelerator and
the truck lurched.  As he passed 35, the engine began whining loudly.  "Oh,
great!" he hollered.  "Manual shift!"  He looked at the stick, then shrugged
and jammed it into fourth.
     There was a loud grinding sound, then the truck sped up.  Brian knocked
on the rear window.  Matt pushed a button and the window slid away.  "Clutch
next time," Brian told him.
     "Thanks for the tip," Matt shot back.
     "See that car up there?" Brian asked.  "Model 1993 convertible
Corvette?"
     "Yeah, but I don't know how we're gonna catch it!"  Matt yelled back,
passing the speed limit of fifty on Lead Avenue.
     Brian reached over and punched the "Overdrive" button on the panel. 
Immediately, the speed dial dropped away to display a bigger one.  
     "How'd you do that?"  Matt asked.
     Brian shrugged.  "It was mandated on all pizza trucks in '99," he said. 
"In case the pizza is almost late."
     "You should know!"  Matt pulled up alongside the car.  "You work for
Pizza Hut!"
     Thompson saw the pizza truck in his rear view mirror.  He quickly turned
onto deserted 15th Street and sped up.
     "Dammit!" Matt yelled, jamming the stick into fifth.  He was now free to
go as fast as the truck allowed.
     "You better catch him and hurry up!" Brian said. "Washington Pool isn't
too far ahead!"
     "Stop bugging me and maybe I can!"  Matt yelled, pulling alongside the
car again.
     Spence crawled to the window.  "I got an idea," he said. "Pull a little
ahead of this guy so your cab is even with the hood ornament."
     "Right," Matt grumbled, bearing down harder onto the gas pedal.  "Pull
ahead.  You want me to take off into the air?"
     "No, but I will if you'll shut up,"  Spence said, moving to the edge.
     "You're gonna jump in the car?"  Brian asked incredulously.
     "I'd crack a joke, but something tells me this isn't the time!"  Spence
balanced on the side of the bed.
     "Wait!  Spence!"  Kim yelled, running to the side.
     But Spence had already jumped.
     He landed in the back seat of the car, the breath knocked out of him
temporarily.  He saw the truck move a little further forward and then saw Kim
leap into the car.
     "Didn't want to leave you for the wolves," she said once she caught her
breath.  Then she grimaced.  "Ow.  I landed on something hard."  She began to
rummage through the pile of papers.
     "My bones don't hurt that much," Spence said.
     "No," Kim said, holding up the suitcase.  She handed it to him.  "Here,"
she said.  "Throw this to Laura.  Brian's too busy giving Matt instructions." 
     "Now you're giving 'em to me," Spence said back, standing up in the seat
and pitching the suitcase to Laura. She caught it and swung it into the bed. 
She then stuck her head into the rear window and said something to Matt. 
Matt pulled over into the parking lane in front of the Knights of Columbus.
     Going back into the car, Spence said to Kim, "All we need now is a plan
to arrest this guy."
     "Knowing you, you have one already, right?" Kim predicted.
     "Right.  Now what we do..."
     A few minutes later, Kim slid into the front seat.  Thompson finally
noticed her, turned the radio down, and said, "Hey, you..."
     Kim snapped her seat belt on and yelled, "NOW!"
     Spence's arm shot forward like a viper.  He grabbed the emergency brake
and yanked it back.  The car immediately stopped, throwing Thompson into the
horn.
     "Awww, too bad," Spence said, leaping out of the sunroof and looking at
Thompson.  "Always remember Vince and Larry.  Wear your seat belt."
     Joining him, Kim said, "If you had, maybe you wouldn't have had that
funny Corvette imprint on your forehead."
     "Bye," Thompson said, punching the button to release the emergency
brake.  The car stood still.  "Hey, what the..."
     "It just might help if you had these," Kim said, holding up the car
keys.
     "Give me those!" Thompson snapped, getting out of the car and reaching
for the keys.
     "Just the opportunity we've been waiting for," Spence said, grabbing
Thompson's arm and twisting it behind his back. Snatching his other one, he
said, "Kim, the cuffs."
     Kim threw him the cuffs and Spence snapped them on Thompson. Walking him
to the car, he read Thompson's rights before shoving him in the back seat.
     "Well, we got Thompson, Ellis, and the money," Spence said to Matt over
the mobile phone.  "There's just one more really big thing we gotta do."
     "What's that?" Matt asked.
     "Deliver all these pizzas."