The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen Read Online Free

climbing over the roof in a catsuit, discreetly picking poison blow darts out of your neck in the Krakatoa Lounge—if, for a moment, you think back to the last time you solved a mystery in a resort setting, you’ll know that this is the point in the game when you really need to start looking for suspects. I will parade a bunch of highly suspicious freaks past you, and you will have to ask yourself:
    1. Did they have a motive to commit the crime? In other words, do they have a reason for doing the deed?
    2. Did they have the opportunity to commit the crime? Do they have an alibi?
    3. Did they have the means to commit the crime?
    Also, keep your eyes open for things that might make people look suspicious. Sometimes a little subtle detail that might escape you at first turns out to be the thing that really matters most. For example, does a particular character carry a sword? Does a particular character wear a Halloween mask the whole time and breathe in a rasping sort of way? Does a character walk on all fours, bobbing his head up and down? Does a character suspend you over a pit of lava and say, “Soon it will all be mine! Mine! Mine, I tell you!”? In the difficult world of police detection, it’s often little clues like this that give the game away.
    Now, it has to be said, clues like this still would have been completely mystifying to the Manley Boys. Jank and Fud Manley could not have been stupider if they had been made out of margarine.
    â€œWe’ll find those Quints,” said Jank, squinting into the sun. “It’s a cinch.”
    â€œI hope they’re still in their box,” said his brother Fud, who had missed the explanation of what a “quint” was. He thought they were something like a wrench.
    The search parties were gathered outside the hotel on the grass in the middle of the circular drive. Above them the flag flapped in the summer breeze. The crags of the mountain rose all around them.
    The hotel manager called out, “Now, first. Identification. Does anybody know what the Quints look like?”
    Nobody said anything.
    All sorts of guests had turned out for the search. Some were in wet bathing suits and some were in fancy linen suits. Some wore tweed hiking gear. Some were in evening gowns or black tie. Lily was in jeans and a sweatshirt. Jasper, needless to say, was in shorts and kneesocks.
    â€œWould somebody who has read the Quints’books please give us a description?” the manager requested.
    Nobody said anything.
    â€œWho here,” he asked, “has read one of the Quints’ books?”
    The wind blew high above them all, ruffling a bored eagle’s wings.
    â€œThe books came out a really long time ago,” said someone apologetically.
    â€œAre the Quints the ones with all the weird machines?” someone else asked.
    â€œNo,” the first person answered. “That was … uh … What was that stupid kid’s name? I read those books when I was a boy … Something like Hopalong Jack, Young Hypernaut, or, eh, Jack Sprint, Child Techno—”
    Lily yelled out quickly, “Maybe you have one of the Quints’ books in the hotel library!”
    The manager nodded. He sent one of the bellhops back into the hotel to check the library for Hooper Quints books so the group could hear them described and get a positive ID.
    â€œLily,” whispered Jasper, “do you think that man might have been talking about me?”
    â€œNo,” said Lily. “No way.” She squeezed Jasper’s shoulder, but she didn’t look in his eyes, because she was lying.
    â€œDo you think no one reads my books anymore?” Jasper asked.
    â€œI read them,” said Lily. “I’ve read them all three times.”
    â€œYou’re Jasper Dash, Boy Technonaut?”
    Lily and Jasper turned to see who had spoken. It was a boy in overalls.
    â€œIndeed,” said Jasper.
    The boy stuck out his hand.