The Case of the Stolen Space Suit by Steve Brezenoff

Author:Steve Brezenoff [Brezenoff, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction; Stone Arch Books; Museum Mysteries; mysteries & detective stories; social issues/friendship; science & technology; 9781496525161; 9781496525208; 9781496525246
Publisher: Capstone
Published: 2015-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

“Mr. Mordecai,” Amal said, stepping toward the door. “You know my father, right?”

“Yes, yes,” he said, clearly exasperated. “Dr. Farah. He’s a thorn in my side. Are you trying out to be another thorn too?”

Amal stared at the man. “What?” she said.

“Oh, just tell me what you want, child!” he snapped.

“Um … ,” Amal started to say, but she was too upset by Mr. Mordecai’s nasty words about her father to continue.

Clementine took over. “Have you heard about the missing space suit?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Mordecai, and for a moment a look of pure glee flashed across his face. “Leave it to that museum to lose something so precious so quickly.” His expression quickly soured again. “For some reason that detective thinks I had something to do with it. But I haven’t been to that museum in years.”

Mr. Mordecia fired a withering glance at Amal. “Tell your father it’s his fault, will you?” he snapped. “If I’d had my way, the space suit would be safe and sound right here, which is where it should have been the whole time!”

With that, he slammed the door in their faces.

“Wow,” Clementine said. “That completely killed the inspiration buzz I got from the planetarium show.”

“We are just meeting the meanest people today,” Wilson said.

Amal nodded. “Let’s go,” she said. Mr. Mordecai’s words stung, and after the run-in with Maggie and the mean bus driver, she’d had enough for one day. “Let’s forget the whole thing. Raining, maybe you can still make it home for taco night.”

“But what about the mystery?” Raining said. “Mr. Mordecai has already spoken to the detective, and it sounds like he didn’t do it.”

“Yeah,” agreed Wilson. “We need a new suspect.”

“Who cares?” Amal snapped. “Let the police worry about it. I’m going home.” And she headed for the exit.

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