Dial M for Mongoose by Bruce Hale Page B

emptying out.
    "Terrible!" cried Bitty Chu, teacher's pet. "Think of all the class time we're missing." She held her nose.
    "Wonderful," I said, breathing deeply. "A fresh mystery—
koff!
—at last."

2. The Mark of Zero
    I was champing at the bit to start investigating the Big Stink. But Mr. Ratnose had other ideas.
    "Everyone stick together," he said. "To the playground!"
    Other teachers must have had the same thought. We all tramped out onto the grass in cheerful, well-organized chaos, like an anthill on a field trip.
    I took advantage of the confusion to locate my partner, Natalie Attired.
    Along with the rest of her class, she was following her teacher, a tough turtle named Ms. Amanda Reckonwith.
    "What's the word, mockingbird?" I called.
    She turned and raised an eyebrow. "You mean, what's the stink, rat fink?"
    "Exactly," I said."
That's
what I want to know."
    Natalie was a sharp-looking mockingbird with an even sharper tongue. Some say she put the
smart
in
smart aleck.
I'd go a step further. With her common sense and puzzle-solving skills, I'd say she put the
wise
in
wisecracker.
    "This smell reminds me of something," she said. "Something that's brown and sounds like a bell."
    "What's that?" I asked.
    "Dung!" She cackled.
    Cancel that
wise
comment.
    Taking her by a wing, I said, "Let's go find Principal Zero."
    She planted her feet and stared at me like someone who had just brought a bug-eyed alien to the Spring Fair. "You're actually
looking
for trouble?"
    "No, for a case. Maybe he'll hire us to find out who stinkbombed the school."
    "Class," barked Ms. Reckonwith. "No talking!"
    When she cracked the whip, the students clammed up in a hummingbird's heartbeat.
    Natalie glanced at her teacher. "Maybe later," she whispered.
    I shoved off. My class was still milling about. Time to make my move.
    Mr. Zero stood at the edge of the grass, talking with two teachers. He was a hefty pussycat with a wacky taste in ties and a reputation for chewing out his students' patooties like so many packs of bubble gum.
    His reputation was well deserved.
    "Heya, boss man," I said. "How's tricks?"
    His amber eyes frisked me, while his tail lashed gently from side to side. "Gecko," said Mr. Zero. Somehow, coming from his mouth, it sounded more like "Yuck-o."
    "Need some help getting to the bottom of this stench?" I asked.
    "When I need help, I'll ask for it," he rumbled. "And not from some fourth-grade, two-bit gumshoe."
    I put a hand to my chest. "That smarts, chief. After all we've been through? At least give me a shot at it."
    The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing an ivory fang. "As it happens, Ms. Shrewer is already on the job. And here she comes now."
    Vice Principal Shrewer trudged up the hallway, taking off a gas mask. She was a hard-bitten shrew with an expression as sour as stinkbug-and-vinegar yogurt.
    "Well?" said the big cat. "What was it?"
    "Carelessness, pure and simple," said Ms. Shrewer.
    "How do you mean?" I asked.
    Both administrators turned to eyeball me. "Is this any of your business?" said Mr. Zero.
    "No," I said."But a gecko could
make
it his business."
    The principal pointed a sharp claw. "A gecko could also go
out
of business."
    I shrugged. "There's no business like ... no business."
    They resumed their conversation.
    "Anyway, I searched the boiler room and found a jumbo jar of ammonia by the heating vent," said the shrew.
    "Ammonia?" I said. "But—"
    A look from Mr. Zero silenced me. "Ammonia alone wouldn't cause that smell," he said.
    "No," Ms. Shrewer agreed. "But it looked like someone had accidentally dropped some match heads into the jar.
That's
what caused the odor."
    Match heads in ammonia? A classic stinkbomb. That wasn't an accident; that was planned.
    Mr. Zero stroked his whiskers. "Any idea
which
someone is responsible?"
    "Isn't it obvious?" said the shrew. "Who else uses ammonia around here? Maureen DeBree."
    "Ms.DeBree?" I said. "But she'd never—"
    "Gecko," Principal Zero snapped.