Free The Adventures of Jack Lime by James Leck

mentioned him. “Now, that name sounds familiar.”
    The first bell rang, and I gave up trying to be quick about this. I walked into her office, sat down and handed her the picture. “Ralph Hampton,” I repeated, tapping on the photo.
    She leaned back and closed her eyes for a long time. For a second, I thought she’d fallen asleep, and then she blurted, “Oh, sure, Ralph Hampton. He was smart as a whip, but the clumsiest kid I ever met. Do you know he set himself on fire in his economics class? He didn’t even have any matches.”
    â€œIn economics class,” I asked, to make sure I was hearing her right.
    â€œYes, it was the strangest thing I’d ever seen. But, oh my, he was a smarty-pants. He was our top student until Cindy Hooper came here.”
    â€œCindy Hooper?”
    â€œCindy came here her senior year. Her parents moved from Boston. I think her father was a professor … or a scientist … or maybe an engineer. No, I think he was a lawyer. Oh, I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it? Anyway, Cindy was only fifteen, but she was the brightest young lady we’ve ever had at our school. She was a genius. A real genius! Poor Ralph probably would have won the Luxemcorp Prize if she hadn’t arrived on our doorstep. Poor Ralph.”
    â€œThanks, Ms. Mickle,” I said, getting up.
    â€œDon’t forget a lolli on your way out, Jack,” she said, pointing to a bowl full of lollipops next to her door.
    As I was going out, Gregory “Atomic Wedgie” Pepperton was on his way in.
    â€œJack,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Malone only got five days. He’ll be back in five days, and he says he’s coming after me. You have to help. You have to!”
    Gregory was looking pretty rotten. He was as white as a sheet and sweating like a hog.
    â€œGet in touch,” I said, struggling out of his grip. “Call me.” I tossed three or four of my cards over my shoulder.
    I felt awful about Gregory. I really did. But I needed to focus on helping Tyrone, and the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.
    Here’s what I knew so far:
    1. Ralph Hampton had taken economics. (Apparently, he’d almost set himself on fire.)
    2. Tyrone had been given an economics project to finish.
    3. Ralph had graduated two years ago, which meant he could have had Murdock for his English teacher, and he probably would have done the essay on
The Old Man and the Sea
.
    4. Tyrone was given that exact same essay to finish two years after the novel had been cleared out of the book room.
    5. Ralph had lost the most prestigious scholarship to a girl who arrived on the scene at the last minute.
    6. Tyrone had arrived at Iona High at the last minute, and now he was about to steal the Luxemcorp Prize out from under Walter Hampton’s sharp nose.
    Tyrone was moving in on sacred territory, and the blond model of the Hampton family wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way of winning the Luxemcorp Prize. He’d gotten his slimy little fingers on some of his brother’s old work, and now he was making Tyrone do useless projects to keep him so busy that he’d lose the scholarship. Well, I was tired of squatting in bushes, holding early morning stakeouts and rooting around in dumpsters. It was time to take the bull by the horns, to stand and deliver, to draw a line in the sand. I was going to pay Walter Hampton a little visit, and I was going to get Carver back. Things might get rough; they might even get a little messy, but I was okay with rough and messy as long as I could shut the lid on this dirty case.
    Wednesday, June 4, 3:43 p.m.
34 Kuiper Belt Crescent, The Hampton Place
    I avoided Tyrone like the plague for the rest of the day. I was tired of talk. The next time I saw him, I wanted to have Carver in hand. I was out of school before the bell finished ringing and made a dash for the Hampton place. I was sitting on his steps when