Free Boardwalk Mystery by Gertrude Chandler Warner Page A

the room so full of people. He looked down at his watch. “It is not five o’clock yet. I . . . I just came to see if . . . I mean, to say good luck tonight.”
    Jessie pointed to the stack of photographs in Mr. Hanson’s hands. “Are you sure you did not come for the photographs, Mr. Cooke?” she asked.
    “But how did Bob know we had the photographs?” Mr. Hanson asked. “I don’t understand.”
    “Those kids told me,” Mr. Cooke said. “So you have looked through the photographs already?” he asked.
    “Yes, we have,” Mr. Hanson answered.
    Mr. Cooke shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Then you know that I am the one who put the word unsafe on the Ferris wheel. But it was just a joke, Carl.”
    “Actually, Bob,” Mr. Hanson said, “the photographs don’t show you at all.”
    “What?!” Mr. Cooke turned toward the Aldens. “Those kids told me that the photos had clues in them.”
    “We did not,” Violet responded. “We said that we hoped that there were clues in them. But you have just admitted that you put the word unsafe on the Ferris wheel.”
    “But how did you get up there?” Benny asked. “It is so high!”
    “I fix rides all the time. I know how to go up and down them. I have my own Ferris wheel on my pier, remember?” Mr. Cooke turned toward Mr. Hanson. “And my Ferris wheel has always been better than yours! I was just trying to protect the public from this unsafe pier.”
    “You were not protecting the public when you put the zombie in the ocean,” Henry said.
    Mr. Cooke looked startled.
    “It was you,” Jessie said. “We saw you later walking down the boardwalk and your pants and shoes were quite wet. You did not seem to care that a swimmer banged his ankle against the zombie in the water.”
    “You wanted Mr. Hanson to be blamed for it,” Violet said.
    “And Mr. Cooke wrote with black marker in the house of mirrors,” Benny added.
    Mr. Hanson looked upset. “Did you really do all these things, Bob?” he asked.
    Mr. Cooke looked around the room.
    Everyone was staring at him. “I . . . I . . . All right, I admit it! I did those things. But so what? It is just a little friendly competition.”
    “There is nothing friendly about it,” Mr. Hanson said. “I want you to leave my amusement pier right now. And don’t ever set foot here again or I will call the police. You are lucky I am not calling the police right now!”
    Mr. Cooke’s face turned very red. Then he hurried out of the shed.
    A few moments later, there was knock on the door. “Carl? Are you in there?”
    Mr. Hanson opened the door. “Mrs. Reddy! Come in. What are you doing here?”
    Mrs. Reddy cleared her throat. “I um . . . I want to apologize.”
    “More apologies!” Mr. Hanson exclaimed. “What could you have done, Mrs. Reddy?”
    “Mrs. Reddy wanted your pier to fail also,” Jessie said. “She misses being the owner and running the pier. She thinks that she made a mistake to retire. She would like to run the pier again.”
    Mrs. Reddy nodded. “Jessie is right. So many things were going wrong here, I thought that you would ruin the pier. And I was bored at home with not much to do. I love this pier. I want to keep it great. It is the best pier on the boardwalk.”
    Mr. Hanson nodded. “I know how you feel. And I sure could use your help,” he said. “You have so much experience. Would you be willing to help out here?”
    Mrs. Reddy smiled. “Really? You would let me help? I would love to!”
    There was another knock at the door.
    Mr. Hanson scratched his head. “Now what?” he said.
    It was Madison, one of the pier workers. “Mr. Hanson!” she cried. “We need your help out here!”
    “What is the problem?” Mr. Hanson asked.
    Madison’s face was flushed. “There are so many customers, we need help running the rides! I think the whole town of Oceanside has come to your pier tonight!”
    “How wonderful!” Violet said.
    Everyone rushed out to help run the pier. Jessie sold