The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 by Nic Saint (interesting novels in english txt) 📕

to be crook,” said Dooley, interested in this peculiar piece of news.

“Leonardo DiCaprio was just playing the criminal. As an actor?”

“Oh, right,” said Dooley, understanding dawning.

“And the cop who was chasing him was played by Tom Hanks,” said Brutus. “We saw that movie together, didn’t we, sugar lips?”

“Yeah, Marge was saying when we watched it how funny it would be if Johnny and Jerry would become cops one day, and work for her brother.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” said Brutus. “Like I said, recidivism is a tough proposition. Very hard for these people to leave behind that life of crime.”

We’d finally arrived home, and as we walked past a Fiat that stood parked in front of Marge and Tex’s house, I happened to pick up a familiar scent. “Hey, you guys,” I said. “Come over here a minute. Do you smell that?”

My friends all joined me, and took a good sniff around the little car. “It smells like… Johnny and Jerry,” said Brutus.

“Yes, it does,” said Harriet. “What are the odds they’d be hiding out here someplace?”

And as I sniffed a little more, and followed the trail, not unlike a police dog would, I found myself moving up the path to the front door of Odelia’s parents’ house, with the scent growing stronger by the second.

I turned to my friends. “You know what? I think they’re here.”

“Impossible,” said Brutus. “Those crooks would never come here.”

“Why not?” I said. “They like and respect Marge. They used to work for her at the library, remember? And they got along terrifically.”

“But don’t they know that she’s the sister of the Chief of Police? The man who’s searching high and low for their whereabouts?”

“You’ve got to admit,” said Harriet, “that thinking has never been their strong suit. In fact their lack of brains is what keeps leading them into trouble over and over again.”

We all sat there, staring at the closed door, then decided to move around the back and take a look for ourselves, to ascertain whether this wild and crazy theory could possibly have a basis in fact.

So we rounded the house, then snuck in through the pet flap, and soon found ourselves in the kitchen.

“Nothing,” said Brutus. “What did I tell you? They would never dare to show their faces here.”

But then we heard noises upstairs, and the shuffling of feet.

“I think we better go and have a look,” I said. “Marge and Tex are supposed to be asleep, not dancing the Viennese waltz.”

So we moved up the stairs, single file, and as we crept into the bedroom were surprised to find the lights ablaze, but of Tex and Marge there was no sign.

“Johnny and Jerry took them hostage, too!” said Harriet.

“I think this is a bad idea,” suddenly we heard Tex exclaim.

We proceeded in the direction of the sound, and, arriving in the guest bedroom, found ourselves witnessing an unusual sight: Marge and Tex were there, which was to be expected as this was their home, but also Johnny and Jerry, standing next to the guest bed. On that bed, looking pale and motionless, lay Lord Hilbourne—currently the most famous man in Hampton Cove—and also the most sought-after.

Chapter 33

“See?” said Brutus, a note of triumph in his voice. “I told you that these bozos would never be able to get rehabilitated. Once a crook, always a crook.”

“You really shouldn’t have come here,” said Tex, addressing Jerry, whom he seemed to have singled out as the intelligent one.

“I know, I know,” said Jerry. “But Johnny figured you were our best option. Better tell them the story, Johnny. And leave no detail out, no matter how insignificant.”

“Well, it all started with me being afraid of heights, see,” said the big lug.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of heights, Johnny,” said Marge, a note of affection in her voice that Brutus probably didn’t like to see there.

“Yeah, it’s very annoying, especially in my line of work.”

“You mean because you frequently have to break into places?” asked Tex.

“No, because I’m so tall I always find myself looking down on people.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s not important,” said Jerry. “Get to the part where we met those two idiots next door.”

“So the only room available at the hotel was on the third floor,” said Johnny. “And that wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t come with a balcony. I hate balconies, Mrs. Poole—Marge. I hate them cause they make me feel dizzy when I stand on them.”

“So don’t stand on them,” Tex suggested.

“Exactly what I keep telling him,” Jerry grumbled.

“But I like to look at the birds. I love birds. They relax me. And I like the colors.”

“Will you just get to the good part already?!” Jerry cried.

“So we tried to change rooms, only the two guys next door said no.”

“Yeah, real sweethearts, those two.”

“But what can you do, right?” said Johnny. “So we figured if they say no, that’s it. I better don’t go near the window—and that balcony.”

“So suddenly last night,” said Jerry, taking over the narrative thrust of the conversation, “I hear this strange noise coming from next door, and so I put my ear to the door, as one does.”

“One of those connecting doors,” Johnny explained. “Very thin. Isn’t that right, Jer?”

“Yeah, real thin. You can hear pretty much everything that goes on in the next room. So there’s a lot of shouting and stumbling around, so I figure those two idiots have gotten into a fight.”

“Probably one of them felt sorry he didn’t give us their room, and the other didn’t agree,” said Johnny.

“So we decide to bust into the room, wanting to break up the fight.”

“And maybe muscle those guys out and into our room so we can take theirs.”

“But instead of those guys duking it out they’ve got Little Lord Fauntleroy over here and his face and shirt are full of blood and he looks half dead. They were trying to kill him!”

“So I just followed my instincts,” said Johnny, “and knocked both those guys’ blocks