Mr. Pin: The Chocolate Files by Mary Elise Monsell

1
    It was midnight and Chicago was cold. Smiling Sally’s diner was closed for the night. But a light was on in the back room. Mr. Pin, famous crime-solving rock hopper penguin, was listening to opera.
    Mr. Pin had come from the South Pole to be a detective. He had saved Smiling Sally’s from being blown up by ruthless gangsters. Since then, the diner was his home.
    The wind blew newspapers down the alley. Mr. Pin put on his checked cap and red muffler and hopped up onto a crate. Then he raised a pencil into the air and pretended to conduct the opera on the radio.
    Suddenly, there was a loud screech in the alley. It wasn’t the wind and it wasn’t the opera. The penguin detective dropped his pencil and hopped off his crate.
    Quickly, Mr. Pin put out the light and grabbed a heavy rag mop. He was ready for trouble and trouble seemed to be breaking into the back door of the diner.
    Just then, the penguin detective smelled something different. Feathers, he thought. But the feathers weren’t his. As the back door opened slowly, a feather boa fluttered in the draft. A dark figure stepped inside.
    â€œStop right there,” ordered Mr. Pin. “I have a large mop.”
    â€œPlease,” said a high-pitched voice. “I need your help.”
    â€œHelp,” said Mr. Pin. “Then you’ll have to come into my office.” With that, Mr. Pin lowered the mop and led the way for the figure in black.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” said Maggie, who appeared in her bathrobe, red hair in all directions. She lived upstairs with her aunt Sally, two gerbils, and a CB radio.
    â€œI’m sorry if it sounded like I was breaking in,” said the high voice in the dark. “But I am very famous. I think there might be trouble and I didn’t want anyone to see me come here.”
    Maggie followed the sound of creaking floorboards to Mr. Pin’s room. Then she switched on the light.
    The dark figure was a lady dressed in a long black coat and pink feather boa. She had thin eyebrows and her lipstick was bright red. “Let me introduce myself,” she said. “ I am Berta Largamente, the opera singer. I think there is going to be a crime at the opera house.”
    â€œCrime?” asked Mr. Pin, standing on his typing crate. “What crime are you worried about?”
    Maggie sat down on a box of canned tomatoes and took notes. Berta took the only chair, next to the radio, which was still playing opera music.

    â€œI think the conductor is going to be kidnapped,” said Berta loudly.
    â€œKidnapped,” said Maggie. “That’s serious. Did you call the police?”
    â€œWell, no. I haven’t called them yet, but the conductor is acting strangely,” explained the opera singer. Then she hurried on, saying, “He’s been showing up late. He looks very worried and he’s missed my singing cues. I also found a note.”
    â€œWhat about a note? What did it say?” asked Mr. Pin. He turned the radio volume down.
    â€œThe note said ‘Danger ahead. Watch your step.’” Then to the two detectives, Berta added, “I found it on his music stand.”
    â€œOn his music stand …” repeated Mr. Pin. “The conductor could be in trouble. When can I talk to him?”
    â€œThen you will help. I heard you were a famous detective. I wasn’t sure you’d take the case.” Then Berta added, “You can see him tomorrow night at the opera.”
    â€œWe’ll need tickets,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œOf course,” said Berta. “The tickets will be at the box office. You’ll have to sit at the top, the very top. The best seats are at the top.”
    â€œWhy is that?” asked Maggie.
    â€œThe sound,” said Mr. Pin, “is best at the top.”
    Screech!
    â€œOh, that’s my limousine,” said Berta. “I told my driver to go around the block. I need to go. Thank you for your help. I