Mystery of Merlin and the Gruesome Ghost (Humpty Dumpty Jr., Hardboiled Detective) Read online

  © 2008 by Nate Evans and Paul Hindman

  Cover and internal design © 2008 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover illustration © 2008 by Vince Evans

  Interior illustrations © 2008 by Vince Evans and Nate Evans

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used ficticiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and is not intended by the authors.

  Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. ISBN: 978-1-4022-3420-0

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  VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For my daughter

  Dakota Rachel

  —New York Fashion Kitten

  —Paul

  For my mom, Rusty,

  Thank you for a lifetime of encouragement,

  wisdom, and wonderful conversations.

  With love,

  Nate

  For Laurie,

  Who makes me laugh and brightens my day.

  You are my eternal source of inspiration.

  Love,

  Vince

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 Gloom and Doom

  Chapter 2 The Frozen Lily

  Chapter 3 Journey Underground

  Chapter 4 The Musty Magician

  Chapter 5 Nurse Punnymany

  Chapter 6 Morphing Madness

  Chapter 7 Of Swords and Snotswarths

  Chapter 8 The Gruesome Ghost

  Chapter 9 Lord Feathergrimm

  Chapter 10 Another Ghost?

  Chapter 11 Pass de Dukes

  Chapter 12 No Flushing Flush

  Chapter 13 “There Are No Ghosts”

  Chapter 14 Ghost Busted

  Chapter 15 “Stupid, Stupid Boy”

  Chapter 16 A Wart by Any Other Name

  Chapter 17 Wand and Sword

  Chapter 18 The Full-of-Hot Heir

  Chapter 19 Another Secret

  Chapter 20 Once, and Future

  Chapter 21 The Queen

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Gloom and Doom

  Once Upon a Crime:

  There was a detective.

  Me.

  Humpty Dumpty Jr., Hardboiled Detective.

  I’m a good egg who always cracks the case.

  I live and work in the city.

  My city.

  New Yolk, New Yolk.

  A crazy, dangerous, beautiful town.

  We were standing at my office window, watching the raindrops splat like water balloons.

  Me and my sidekick, Rat.

  And, man, is he ever a sidekicker.

  We were having the argument. Again.

  “No way!” Rat shouted. “No way I’m going to school!”

  His angry voice was as loud as the thunder shaking the building.

  “Listen, kiddo,” I patiently stated, again, “that’s our deal. You only get to be my partner if you live with Patty Cake and go to school.”

  This kid, Rat, had recently been living on the streets.

  I met him on a case: The Fiendish Flapjack Flop.

  “You know Patty makes me take baths,” Rat said. “Baths are for wimps!

  “Have you ever sat in boiling bathwater for so long that you wound up wrinkleder than Patty Cake’s knees?”

  I replied, “I’ve been boiled once, thank you; that’s enough for me. And just for the record, that’s not exactly the story I hear from Patty.”

  At bath time, Rat actually whimpers and whines, then jumps out the window in his under wear and climbs onto the roof.

  Poor Patty has to coax the kid in with a plate of donuts. He barely sticks his foot in the tub before announcing his bath is done.

  “Okay, wise guy,” Rat snapped. “Totally ignore my pain.”

  Rat looked completely different than the day I met him: back then he was a scrawny, filthy runt.

  Now, he’s scrubbed clean, with a slick haircut (except he messes it up as soon as he steps out of Patty’s bakery).

  And spanking new clothes (complete with pockets, buttons, and working zippers).

  Rat hollered, “I just want to be your partner and solve mysteries.”

  It was gloomy and dark that morning.

  The noises of the street (usually shriller than a parade of anteaters playing saxophones) were muffled and dull.

  It was the kind of weather that seeps into your guts and makes your spirits all damp and soggy.

  Listening to Rat harp on the same old tune wasn’t helping.

  But, life goes on. I picked up today’s paper:

  MAYOR FLUTTERBUTT BUSTED!

  Crime Boss “Royal” Flush At Large

  NYPD Lieutenant Rhino Rosebriar of the 54th Precinct arrested NYC Mayor Flutterbutt in a dawn raid!

  As most of the city officials arrived at City Hall this morning, they were met by Lt. Rosebriar and a paddy wagon. The officials were nabbed for bribery, theft, and mob connections.

  Lt. Rosebriar commented at the arrest: “These guys are all connected to the Potty Mouth Gang. We suspect Boss ‘Royal’ Flush is behind this whole Organization. But no one knows who Flush is! He’s the baddest baddie of ’em all, and he’s just a shadow within a shadow. But don’t worry. We’ll get ’im.”

  I’ve had plenty of run-ins with the Potty Mouth Gang. Knock-Out Louie, Toothless Moe, and the rest. Dumb as ogres (which is an insult to ogres). But their Boss is a brilliant, mysterious figure, the looming phantom behind some of the biggest heists in the city.

  If only we knew who the rat was!

  I jumped as something pounded our office door like a jackhammer.

  Rat shouted, excited, “My first customer! I’ll handle it!”

  He ran to the door and threw it open.

  From the shell-shocking clamor of our visitor’s knock, I was expecting at least a rock-troll, possibly a giant. But standing at the open door was a frail, pale girl.

  She was shivering, soaked, her hair dripping rivers. She leaned weakly against the doorframe.

  Then she collapsed into Rat’s arms, moaning, “Help!”

  Rat turned to me, with a ‘yuck-it’s-a-girl’ expression.

  “It’s for you,” he said.

  Chapter 2

  The Frozen Lily

  We moved the shivering girl to my comfy desk chair.

  I wrapped her in a big blanket.

  Rat crouched in the farthest corner, glaring at her like she was some kind of dripping alien fungus.

  “Whatsa matter?” I asked her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  “The ghost!” she screamed, clutching my arm tightly.

  “Really?” I asked. “A real ghost?”

  She wiped her nose on my tie, took a breath and said, “A ghost...in glowing armor...wandering the halls, and classrooms...”

  I said, �
�Where—?”

  “...the magic workshops, the courtyard...”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “...the bat cages, the bathrooms...clanking and rattling and freaking everybody out!”

  “Yeah, kid. But where?”

  “My school.”

  “Gimme a name.”

  “Merlin’s Institute for the Knowledge of Everything!”

  I asked, “And whadda we call you?”

  “Lily,” the girl said, shivering a bit less. “Princess Lily.”

  I’d already noticed the small tiara in her sopping hair. It looked like a dime-store crown.

  Rat sneered from his corner, “Princess! Of what?”

  “My father’s Prince Balto. That makes me Princess Lily,” the girl stated.

  Except for her cheap tiara, Princess Lily was dressed like any average girl: A navy blue skirt with silver stars, white blouse and stockings, a blazer too big. Old, worn-out penny loafers.

  She looked to be about Rat’s age.

  I handed Lily cookies and a mug of hot chocolate, and said, “So there’s a ghost at Merlin’s Institute?”

  Lily nodded. She nibbled her cookie. “Poppa’s really sick,” she finally whispered. “From...the ghost. Last night he went to fight it, ’cause Merlin wasn’t doing anything. I found Poppa this morning...in a hallway. He won’t wake up!”

  Hands shaking, she sipped her cocoa, then pointed at Rat. “Why’s he here?”

  Rat blurted, “I work with him. We’re trying to find out why you’re here!”

  The princess nodded. “I want to hire you.”

  She glanced down sadly. “I was so excited to get into Merlin’s Institute,” she said. “To study with Merlin the Magician himself!”

  Rat inched closer to the desk, his expression a mixture of disgust and curiosity.

  Lily went on, “But everything’s gone wrong... poor Poppa...”

  I asked, “Any more clues about the ghost?”

  “It walks through walls,” said the princess. “And it moans.”

  “Does it say anything?” I asked.

  Lily sniffled and said, “Sometimes...Mostly it moans...But...sometimes it says...”

  “Go on.”

  “‘GIVE ME MY MAGIC!’” Lily shrieked.

  Chapter 3

  Journey Underground

  Rat said, “Okay, so about our fee...”

  “I’ve only got—” Lily began.

  “Zip it,” I said, glaring at Rat.

  I grabbed my wand. I also swooped my parachutesized green umbrella from its ogre-foot stand.

  It wasn’t very far to the subway station. We’d get there through this storm even if we’d have to sail there!

  We made it to the subway and started down the stairs. As I lowered the umbrella, I noticed Rat standing a few steps above me. He was, for the record, very wet.

  Startled, I said, “Why didn’t you get under the umbrella?”

  Rat, shaking himself off, said, “This counts as bath time. I’m clean!”

  I knew the real reason. “Look, she’s just a girl,” I said. “Well, she’s actually a princess, but royalty are just people. No big deal, okay? And she’s our client.”

  Rat caught up with me, and we both caught up with Lily.

  Our subway train was waiting, the steamy, wet passengers and their steamy, wet clothing fogging up the windows.

  “Let’s jump on,” I said.

  After squeezing, poking, plowing, and punching, I got the kids and myself (and my enormous umbrella) onto the smelly “D” train to 5th Ave.

  “So, how long have you been at Merlin’s school?” I asked Lily as we seated ourselves.

  “Just a few days. At first Merlin wouldn’t let me in. But Poppa talked him into it. We sold our castle to get the tuition. Plus, he took a job at the school, for no money. Poppa...” She sniffled again.

  “It’s just me and Poppa. Momma died when I was born. Poppa tries so hard...”

  Rat asked, “Who is this Merlin dude anyway?”

  “He’s the greatest wizard ever!” Lily said. “He was asleep for a thousand years and then came here to start his school. He’s totally amazing!”

  Irritated, Rat looked at me for the real story.

  “She’s right,” I said. “About ten years ago, this big sword (stuck in a stone and anvil) miraculously appeared in New Yolk. Next thing, Merlin blew into town. He announced that he was looking for a king. Whoever could pull the sword from the stone was supposed to be the Big Cheese.”

  Lily chimed in, “But nobody could do it. Merlin’s still waiting.”

  I continued, “So Merlin started his school, and it was a hit. Princes from all over the world showed up, to try the sword, and to study with Merlin.”

  The loudspeaker in the car squawked: “Broad...smsh...smhr krrrkkkk, transfers to Bonx, Burplyn, schmmch shchmknm, kk...5th Avenue.”

  “That’s us,” I said.

  We got off the train and climbed to 5th Ave.

  Fat drops of rain plunked into puddles, splashing mud fountains everywhere.

  “The school is Merlin’s actual castle from England,” I continued as we walked. This time Rat joined us under the umbrella.

  I said, “Merlin brought it to New Yolk City by magic. It just plopped out of nowhere, right between the Giggleheim Art Museum and the Swine Gas Works.”

  Speaking of which, as we approached the school, the stench of the Gas Works made me wanna trade in my fedora hat for a gas mask.

  We crossed the Institute’s drawbridge over the moat.

  Two enormous suits of armor blocked the front door with bronze battle-axes bigger than Liberty’s torch.

  I stepped forward. “What’s this?”

  A mechanical voice boomed from behind one of the guard’s slatted visors, “Dis is ‘no dice.’”

  Lily said, “I’m a student here.”

  The other guard growled in a tinny falsetto at Lily, “Youse can go in, but ix-nay on the egg-yay.”

  What was it with these guys’ voices? One sounded like a robot, the other like Mickey Mouse.

  I retorted, “But we’re here to see Merlin! The Headmaster. About the ghost!”

  The first tough guy stepped forward, brandishing his axe. “Nuts to you. And da squirt.”

  Both guards bellowed with laughter.

  I persisted, “This ‘squirt’ is actually rich and famous, royalty!”

  The guard on the left looked at Rat. “Yeah, so why do ya look so broke?”

  I said, “He’s in disguise! He likes to keep a low profile.”

  One guard squeaked to the other, “Da boss said let rich kids in.”

  The other guard said, “He got magic? Da boss said let in rich kids wid magic.”

  Rat said, “I got plenty of magic, tin man.” He held out his hand to me, and I gave him the wand. “Let me show ya:

  Sha-Boom!”

  One of the guards’ axes shrunk DINK! to the size of a can-opener.

  The other guard laughed metallically then said, “Looks like magic to me,” and opened the door.

  There was something familiar about those weird voices, but I couldn’t place them.

  The guard led us to Merlin’s office.

  “Watch your step in dere,” the guard squeaked. “Youse guys don’t wanna make trouble, ’cuz da boss don’t like trouble. Savvy?”

  Chapter 4

  The Musty Magician

  Two more lunkheads in lead suits guarded Merlin’s office. We breezed by and barged in.

  The Old Geezer jumped at our rude entrance.

  Merlin’s face was pale and wrinkled, his skin leathery.

  His white hair and beard were yellowed with age like old books. Tangled and ragged.

  He smelled funky, like dirty wet socks.

  He looked like a laundry bag with feet.

  I tipped my hat and said, “Name’s Dumpty. Private Eye.”

  I flashed my PI badge at him as I gave his office the once-over.

  The joint w
as chock-full of claustrophobic clutter—a catastrophic collection of all things crazy and creepy.

  Blood-stained suits of armor. Scraggly stuffed creatures from alligators to unicorns. Lab tables with beakers and fuming vials stinking like green puke.

  I pricked the end of the unicorn’s horn with my pinky.

  “Don’t touch that!” Merlin commanded, slapping my hand away. “What are you doing here?”

  I said, “We’re here to look into your little mystery.”

  Rat snapped back, “We’re here to smash your ghost, is all! Get a clue.”

  “But there is no ghost!” Merlin stated.

  Lily meekly piped up, “If there’s no ghost, why is my father sick?”

  Rat added, “Yeah. He musta got a big bad ‘booboo’ from your ghost!”

  Merlin huffed impatiently. “Spoiled cafeteria food, alas, put him in the infirmary. There was no ghost going ‘boo’!”

  The magician stood to his full height and glared with sudden electric eyes at Rat. “And who are you?”

  The wrinkled old toad was crowding me. I’m the detective here. I ask the questions. But I’d run out. Once Merlin denied there even was a ghost, I had nowhere to go.

  I said, “Er, we came to enroll Rat here.”

  Rat sputtered, “Egg-roll me? What??”

  Merlin snorted. “The Institute is for special students. This boy is obviously not royalty, has no money, no manners—and no place in this school!

  “As for the so-called ghost,” Merlin said. “I do not want any help.”

  “So, where’s the sword?” I said. “Did you ever find your king?”

  Merlin stood tall, all dramatic and posing, his stance wide like he was straddling the chasms of history.

  “I am the keeper of the Sword Excalibur!” Merlin said. “I am the guardian of the king, who will return.”

  I’m tellin’ ya, all I needed was some popcorn.

  Merlin stood before the thick velvet curtain behind the desk.

  With a flourish, he swept the curtain away, revealing a magnificent sword. In a stone. And anvil.