Ghost in the First Row by Gertrude Chandler Warner Read Free Book Online Page A

against Tricia.”
    Henry agreed. “It would explain why Tricia lied about knowing Alice.”
    “And she could easily have put her name on Lady Chadwick’s Riddle after Alice died,” Jessie pointed out.
    “But why would Tricia do something like that?” Violet wondered.
    Henry shrugged. “Maybe she saw the contest as a way to make some quick cash.”
    Benny was thinking. “I bet Tricia stole Alice’s tapes, too.”
    “You might be on to something, Benny,” Henry had to admit. “Chances are, she wanted to make sure there wasn’t another copy of Alice’s play.”
    “Still,” said Violet, “I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions.”
    Henry nodded. “You’re right, Violet. It’s one thing to suspect someone. It’s another thing to have proof.”
    “But we can’t just do nothing,” Benny insisted. “Can we?”
    “It wouldn’t hurt to ask a few questions,” Henry said after a moment’s thought. “Aunt Jane has some errands to run in town. Maybe we could get a ride with her to the theater.”
    The Aldens weren’t sure what they were going to do. They only knew they had to do something.

CHAPTER 9
Pointing a Finger
    As they pulled up in front of the Trap-Door Theater, Aunt Jane glanced at her watch. “I’ll get my errands done, then meet you back here,”
    “Perfect!” said Henry as they climbed out of the car.
    Aunt Jane gave them a little wave, then drove away.
    Violet slowed her step. “What if we’re wrong?” She was having second thoughts about their suspicions.
    “Grandfather says we’re seldom wrong when it comes to hunches,” Benny reminded her.
    “And if we’re right,” added Jessie, “we can’t let Tricia get away with stealing Alice’s play, can we?”
    Henry held the theater door open. “Don’t worry, Violet,” he said. “We’ll just ask a few questions and see how Tricia reacts.”
    “That sounds fair,” agreed Violet.
    Inside the theater, the Aldens hurried backstage where preparations for opening night were in full swing. Stagehands were rushing about, testing the lights and setting up props. As the children passed an opened door, a familiar voice called out to them.
    “The Aldens!”
    Ray, who was sitting at his desk, motioned for them to come in. Across from him, Tricia Jenkins and Fern Robson had their heads bent over their scripts.
    “Did you forget we’re out of posters?” Ray asked, smiling as the children stepped into his office.
    “No, we didn’t forget,” Henry told him. “We were hoping you might have time to talk. It’s about Alice Duncan.”
    Tricia suddenly glanced up from her script. A look of shock crossed her face, but only for a moment. She quickly pulled herself together. “We’re in the middle of a script meeting,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hand. “The play opens tomorrow night. We don’t have time to chat.”
    “Speak for yourself.” Fern frowned over at Tricia. “I could use a break.”
    “Let’s take five,” Ray suggested. He put his feet up on his desk and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “What’s up, kids?”
    The Aldens looked at one other. They weren’t really sure how to begin. Finally, Violet spoke up.
    “The thing is,” she said in a quiet voice, “we noticed a mistake in the play.”
    Jessie nodded. “We thought we should mention it.”
    Tricia looked amused. “Well, aren’t we lucky we have the Aldens around to give us a few pointers,” she said, though it was clear from her voice that she didn’t think they were lucky at all.
    Henry squared his shoulders. “It’s true,” he insisted. “There’s a mistake in the last act.” He reminded Ray of what he’d told them—that a footprint shrinks after the sun dries up the mud. Henry finished by saying, “If Lady Chadwick made the mold when the mud was dry, the butler’s shoe would never fit exactly.”
    “Of course!” said Ray. “How could I miss that?” He shook his head. “Looks like we’ll be making a