Mystery of the Traveling Tomatoes by Gertrude Chandler Warner Read Free Book Online

hurried around the bus and stood next to the dog. He looked a bit like Spooky the Scarecrow with his baggy pants and rumpled shirt.
    “Your dog’s name is Cat ?” Jessie asked the man.
    “Yup. Already got a dog named Dog. Cat likes to bark, which makes him a good watchdog. But he wouldn’t hurt a flea. Anyway, I’m Sam. Can I help you?”
    Jessie handed Sam one of Duffy’s For Sale photos. “Do you remember this place?” she asked.
    “Yup, I cleared every bit of that junk.” Sam squinted at the photo. “This doesn’t show that old van I had to haul.”
    “A van?” Jessie said. Her heart beat faster. Had they found the fake armored car? “Is it still here?” she asked.
    Sam scratched his stubbly beard. “Should be around someplace. Let’s take a look.” He led them around cars and trucks, through mountains of rusty fences and metal beams.
    As they walked, Violet asked him about the vegetables growing out front.
    “That’s the darndest thing,” said Sam. “Those hills were always an eyesore—full of weeds and all sorts of litter. But this spring, little plants came sprouting up. Every morning I came to work and found more and more plants. I figured the wind blew in a bunch of old seeds.” He laughed. “I sure do like the look of all that greenery.” Suddenly, Sam stopped. “There,” he said, “there she is.”
    The van was a sorry sight. The metal trim was ripped off the sides. Gone were the tires and doors, bumpers and hood.
    “What happened to it?” Henry asked.
    “People come here looking for parts to fix their cars,” explained Sam. “They’ll take a mirror from one car and a door handle from another.”
    Henry examined small holes poked everywhere on the outside of the van. “Nail holes,” he said. “The thief hammered the metal panels right into the sides of this van.”
    Violet peered inside. “There’s green paint on the steering wheel,” she said. “The thief touched it while he was painting.” She looked closely at the paint. “I think I see fingerprints!”
    Jessie examined the back of the driver’s seat. The plastic headrest was torn. Pieces of yellow foam crumbled out. A few long blond hairs were caught in the jagged plastic. She remembered what Sally had said, that the man who rented Duffy’s Garage had a long blond ponytail. Jessie touched the strands.
    “These aren’t real hair. That ponytail was a wig. And these,” she touched a couple of black hairs caught in the torn leather, “might be hairs from the black wig he wore when he robbed the bank.” She started to pull the hairs out.
    “Stop!” warned Henry. “We mustn’t touch any of this. It’s all evidence.” He read detective books and he knew that it was best not to touch anything that the police might need to solve a case. He saw that the floor of the van was littered with old newspapers, paint rags, fast food, and candy wrappers. Henry wanted to climb in and look through everything. But he knew he couldn’t. “Let’s go,” he said. “We have to tell the police what we’ve found.”
    Chief Morgan sat at the front desk typing up a police report. Next to him was a plate of cookies, with a sign that said: Fresh baked zucchini cookies — help yourself.
    “We found it!” cried Benny. “We found the fake armored car!”
    In a rush, the Aldens told the chief about everything they’d found—the van and the metal panels nailed on to make it look like an armored car, the stranger with the blond ponytail who’d rented Duffy’s Garage …
    As they talked, the chief waved over two detectives who wrote down the children’s information. One of them hurried off to Sam’s Scrap Yard while the other went to Duffy’s Garage.

    “Should we wait here,” asked Jessie, “in case the detectives have questions for us?”
    “They won’t be back for a while,” said the chief. “I’ll call your house when I learn anything. Meanwhile, take a few cookies with you.” He pushed the plate toward them. “My