The boy shook her off and revved the bike’s engine.
“Who are you?” Nancy demanded.
“Ask the kingfisher,” said the boy with a sneer. Then he disappeared into the night.
4
The Kingfisher
Nancy listened as the thrum of the boy’s dirt bike faded into the sound of the rain. Then, realizing that she was chilled, she made her way up to the house. Who was the boy? she wondered. And who or what was the kingfisher?
The lights were already on when Nancy reached the house. Once inside, she checked for signs of another break-in. Nothing had been touched.
She found George, Bess, and Amy in the kitchen, having a mild disagreement over what to have for dinner. Bess wanted to make a complicated casserole, George thought soup and sandwiches would be just fine, and Amy wanted to order out for Chinese food. Their conversation stopped when they saw Nancy.
“Did you just come in?” Bess asked. “I thought you were already upstairs, changing.”
Nancy took off her soggy cardigan and pushed some strands of wet hair out of her eyes. “Does the name kingfisher mean anything to you?”
“It’s a bird,” George replied. “Why? Don’t tell me you were out there bird-watching in this weather.”
“Not exactly,” Nancy said. “When I was coming up the hill, I heard a noise in the woods. It was a teenage boy, and it looked as if he was running away from the house. I chased him to a dirt bike he’d left in the woods. And when I asked him what he’d been doing here, he said, ‘Ask the kingfisher.’ Then he took off.”
“And you think he’s our thief?” Bess asked.
“Not really,” Nancy admitted. “He didn’t look anything like the man in the dark red car, and he was too young to drive. Then again, maybe there has been more than one vandal.”
“What did the boy look like?” Amy asked.
“He was about fourteen and Asian, with longish hair. He wore a silver dragon earring in one ear.”
Amy’s dark eyes widened at the description, but before Nancy could ask her if she knew the boy, the telephone rang and Amy went to answer it. “It’s my dad,” she reported after picking up the phone. “He says he won’t be back until late tonight.”
Nancy waited until Amy hung up. “Amy,” she said, “do you know anyone who fits the description of the boy I saw tonight?”
Amy shook her head and glanced at the clock. “My favorite TV show is on—do you want to watch?”
“You’d better change into something dry,” Bess told Nancy in a worried tone. “And take a hot shower. You’re shivering.”
“Yes, Mom,” Nancy replied with a smile, but she went upstairs and took Bess’s advice. As the hot water streamed down around her, Nancy’s thoughts returned to the latest turn in the case. Who was the kingfisher? And how would she find him?
• • •
Later that evening, after Amy had gone to sleep, Nancy and her friends spread out in the living room with a phone book, a local newspaper, and a bird guide.
“All right,” Nancy said in an official tone. “Your assignment is to find as much information as possible about kingfishers.”
“It’s definitely a bird,” George reported as she flipped through the bird guide. “It’s brightly colored with a short tail and a long, sharp bill. It dives for fish and then swallows them head first.”
“Yuck,” Bess said, looking up from the newspaper. “What am I supposed to be looking for, anyway? A column on birds?”
“Anything with the word kingfisher in it,” Nancy replied. “Maybe kingfisher is the name of a local political leader . . . or a street gang. It could be anything. Just look for the word.”
Bess skimmed the paper and soon announced that kingfishers simply were not in the news.
Nancy checked the phone book. She found no one with the last name of Kingfisher, and no stores or companies named after the bird. “This is driving me crazy,” she said. “I set up a stakeout, and nothing happens—except I get watched. Then I get what may be our first real clue, and we all draw blanks. I don’t even know if the boy is connected to the break-ins, or what it was the thief was looking for.”
“Amy’s sweaters?” George offered with a shrug.
“Right,” Nancy said, smiling. “But somehow I’ve got a hunch that the trunk does have something to do with the mystery.”
Nancy heard the sound of a key turning in the front door, and Terry walked in, looking exhausted. “What are you all doing up?” he asked. “Never mind, I’m beginning to recognize that gleam in Nancy’s eye. You must be discussing the case.”
“We got another clue tonight that led nowhere,” Nancy said. Then she told him about the boy on the dirt bike. “Do you know anyone who fits that description?” she asked.
Terry shook his head. “No one I know, and Amy’s friends are all much younger than him.”
“What about the kingfisher?” Bess asked.
“Do we even have kingfishers in this area?” Terry asked. He dropped into a chair and closed his eyes, as if trying to travel back in memory. “Kingfisher, kingfisher. There’s something familiar about that word.” He sat up straight and opened his eyes. “Kingfisher is what they call jade in southeast Asia.”
“You mean in Vietnam?” Nancy asked.
“And in Thailand and Burma. Over there jade is known as the ‘feathers of the kingfisher.’ You said the boy was Asian, so he might have known the term. Maybe you should be checking jewelry stores that sell jade.”
“Finally,” Nancy said, “something solid to go on.” She turned to Bess and George, feeling happier than she’d been since the start of the case. “Why don’t we call it a night?” she suggested. “Tomorrow we’ll have lots of jewelry stores to call.”
• • •
