Mr. Pin: The Chocolate Files by Mary Elise Monsell Page A

hope you like my solo tomorrow night.” Maggie got up to open the back door.
    â€œI was just wondering …” Mr. Pin started to say. But Berta didn’t hear him and neither did Maggie. Maggie watched the opera star step quickly into the alley, a cloud of pink feathers fluttering behind her. Then Maggie locked up and went upstairs.
    â€œI wonder,” said Mr. Pin, this time to himself. “Why didn’t Berta call the police?” Then Mr. Pin turned the radio volume up a little. He tapped his pencil on the crate. And as the limousine fishtailed down the alley, Mr. Pin conducted again.

2
    It was morning and Mr. Pin was barely awake. But the smell of Smiling Sally’s hot cinnamon rolls was too much for the hungry penguin. He put on his red muffler and headed for the steamy diner.
    A row of truckers sat at the counter while Smiling Sally poured coffee and served buttery rolls.
    â€œCome on in,” she said to each trucker. “Food’s good and you meet interesting people.”
    Mr. Pin sat down at the counter next to Luigi, who drove a pasta truck. Luigi was talking to a well-dressed man who called himself Mac.
    â€œI love opera,” said Luigi to Mac. “I always wanted to be an opera singer. Sometimes I sing in my truck when I make pasta deliveries.”
    â€œWhat do you sing?” asked Mac. He was pouring chocolate syrup over his eggs. “By the way, this is great chocolate.”
    â€œTenor,” said Luigi. “And thanks. I sell the chocolate to Sally, along with fresh pasta.”
    â€œWhere do you sing?” asked Mac.
    â€œIn my truck,” said Luigi.
    â€œWe’re going to hear the opera tonight,” Maggie said as she came in from the kitchen carrying a tray of cinnamon rolls. “Mr. Pin and I are on a case.”

    â€œI’ll give you a ride,” said Luigi to Maggie and Mr. Pin. “The opera house is on my way to a delivery.”
    â€œThanks,” said Maggie. “By the way,” she said to Mac, “you’re new around here. Where are you from?”
    â€œItaly,” said Mac. He looked a little nervous as he quickly put on his coat, paid the bill, and nodded to Smiling Sally.
    Mr. Pin picked up the chocolate syrup as he watched Mac leave.
    â€œWho was that?” asked Maggie.
    â€œMac,” said Luigi. “He wants to learn to drive a truck.”
    â€œDo you think he’s really from Italy?” asked Maggie.
    â€œYes,” said Mr. Pin, pouring syrup directly on the tip of his wing. “But I don’t think his name is really Mac.”

3
    â€œI always sing when I drive. Keeps me awake,” said Luigi to Maggie and Mr. Pin as he drove them to the opera. Luigi sang arias to the music on the radio while Mr. Pin tapped his wing on the dash. Luigi swung his pasta truck behind a long line of limousines parked on North Wacker in front of the opera house. The two detectives climbed out.
    â€œI’ll pick you up later,” said Luigi.
    Mr. Pin and Maggie made their way through the crowd of operagoers to the ticket counter. There they collected their tickets, left by Berta Largamente, and walked over to the elevator.
    â€œBest seats are at the top,” the elevator man told Maggie and Mr. Pin when they stepped inside. “I’m Harold. I run this elevator. Matter of fact, I run just about everything else here too.”
    â€œI’m Maggie and this is Mr. Pin, penguin detective from the South Pole,” Maggie told Harold.
    â€œReasonable rates,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œGlad to meet you,” said Harold as he pulled the door open. The two detectives stepped out. “It’s hot,” Harold went on, “but the best sound is at the top.”
    Mr. Pin tipped his cap. Then he and Maggie looked for their seats.
    It was hot on the upper level. Maggie took off her winter coat. Mr. Pin took a tin of opera chocolates out of a black bag and fanned his feathers. Together