Pun Detectives and the Case of the Missing Music! (Part 6)

“I don’t trust him.”

It was after school. Rain fell heavily against the rattly window panes of HQ. The downpour had come on without warning. The only signs beforehand were the ominous ink-black clouds darkening the sky and blotting out all traces of light and the fact that the weather forecast had read heavy rain all afternoon.

Ok, fine. In hindsight, I should have seen this coming. Maybe if I had, I would have made it to HQ without getting soaked. Just when I had managed to dry off from my before-school dip in the pool too. Just my luck.

Greg was drenched too. He was drumming fat fingers against the cardboard tabletop, soaking and seething.

“You look like you just got out of the shower,” he had said when he saw me.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Well. In case you’ve forgotten, Lily ‘borrowed’ my umbrella. And then you called us” — he jabbed a thumb to his side at Evan — “out here with zero warning. So really this is, like, double your fault.”

“The umbrella thing was weeks ago.”

Greg’s eyes had sharpened to slivers, a waterfall running down his creased brow. “Yeah. I know. I still don’t have it back.”

Evan was playing Cross Crash with one hand while he toweled off his tangly hair with the other. Epic multitasking.

I had just finished catching them both up to speed on the morning’s grand theft audio.

To recap, the facts of the case, as I understood them, went something like this:

1. All the marching band kids put away their instruments in the instrument storage room last night, just like they usually do.

2. The room was opened again this morning, before zero-period marching band started. Considering how hard it is to get into the school past 7:00 p.m. or so, it was safe to assume, for now at least, that this was the first time the room was opened since last night. In other words, it was unlikely that anyone snuck in at night and tampered with anything, and that included the violins.

3. Vance was the one who opened the door this morning. I knew that because he was the only one besides Mr. Treble who had a key, and Valentine Vermicelli had said that when he and Mr. Treble arrived this morning, the room was already open. However, Vance didn’t stick around. He had swim practice, so according to him, after he opened the door, he headed over to the East Ring.

4. The circumstantial evidence was stacked against Vance. Considering he was in the instrument storage room alone this morning, he probably had something to do with the theft. He was the prime suspect.

5. A few minutes after Vance would have stolen the instruments (if he did steal them after all), he showed up at swimming practice. That meant that if he was the one behind all of this, he only had a few minutes to make off with and stash 10 violins. And that meant that if my hunch was right, the violins were somewhere at school, or at least very close by. He wouldn’t have had time to get them any further. The timeline didn’t add up otherwise.

But where could they be? Vance had personally showed me everywhere he was bound to be in the East Ring this morning, and they weren’t anywhere. I had also spent all of my break and lunch looking for any other clues, any other spots where Vance could have hidden the violins. No luck.

The light butterflied on and off. Stupid loose bulb.

“What do you mean you don’t trust him?” asked Greg as soon as I finished explaining and then reminding them that I didn’t trust Vance one bit.

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean?’” I shot right back.

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean?”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean?’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean?”’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean?’”’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean?”’”’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean?’”’”’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean?”’”’”’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean?’”’”’”’”’”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean? “What do you mean? ‘What do you mean “What do you mean?”’”’”’”’”’”

“Ugh, enough. This is going nowhere,” I said. “What I mean when I say I don’t trust Vance is that I don’t trust him. Simple as that.”

“But didn’t he show you all those hiding spots?” asked Evan. “And you didn’t even find anything.”

“That’s true,” I conceded. “I also snooped around myself a bit and didn’t turn up anything. BUT!”

“Butt?” asked Greg.

“No, no, ‘but.’”

“Oh, gotcha. But what?”

“But I still don’t trust him.” It was true. Everything about Vance Valiance rubbed me the wrong way.

“Everything about the guy’s fake,” I explained. “Like all that popular cool guy, athlete, musician, happy-go-lucky, ray-of-disgusting-optimism stuff? It’s bogus. I guess you have to see him in person to get it, but nothing about it is real. He’s got guts though, I’ll give him that. Toned ones. Basically a six pack. Calves too. And 'ceps. All that’s real. But nothing else is.”

“How do you know?” asked Evan without looking up from his game.

It was a good question. How in the heck did I know? Maybe I was just getting good at reading people, but I didn’t think that was the whole story. No, it was something about Vance. Something off. But what?

“Hmmmm. How do I put this? You guys have Ms. F for language arts, right?”

They both nodded.

“Well, it’s like, with her, you can tell everything she says is genuine. Know what I mean? Like, she’s tough on everyone. Harsh, even. But you can tell that when she says she cares and has your back, she means she cares and has your back. Her words have that kind of weight to them. Well, Vance’s words don’t have any weight at all. They’re completely empty. Or something like that. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“So it’s just a persona? Who is he actually then?” said Greg.

“Beats the snot outta me. I can hardly get a read on the guy. That in itself is suspicious though.”

So basically,” Evan said, “you’re jealous.”

Say what!?

“Yeah,” Greg agreed. Irritatingly. “He’s definitely jealous.”

“A-am not!”

“This Vance guy,” Evan continued. “He sounds like the polar opposite of you. Popular, cool, funny, kind, strong, smart, skilled, talented—”

“Ok, ok, I get it!” I was getting dragged something brutal. For god’s sake. “Salt on the wound” didn’t even begin to describe it. This was a flogging at Salar de Uyuni.

“Good natured too,” said Greg. “Don’t forget that.”

Could you at least disagree with him? Like, please?

“Yeah, that’s a big one,” Evan agreed.

I said “disagree,” not “diss-agree.” Dissing me and then agreeing with it was not what I had in mind.

“He basically sounds like everything Wallace isn’t,” Greg concluded.

Letting the damp towel fall around his shoulders, Evan nodded.

“Alright, alright. Fine. I get it,” I said. “But the stuff about Vance is just the backstory to get you guys up to speed and everything. It’s not why I asked you guys to meet me here.”

“Hm. Then why did you ask us to come here?” asked Greg. “I could be doing literally anything else right now. Like clipping my toenails.”

“Or taxes,” Evan added.

“I would be explaining that,” I said, “if you guys could stop hauling me long enough to let me.”

The end of Pun Detectives and the Case of the Missing Music (Part 6)!
To be continued in Part 7!