Wolf could've learned something from Hermanâhis breath was strong enough to melt a brick house.
Normally, I kept my distance from the big lug. But since he'd already caught me, my best move was to play dumb.
Unfortunately, you can't play dumber than Herman without a lobotomy.
"You wanted to see me?" I asked.
I looked him over warily. Herman wore a look on his fanged face I'd call sad on anyone else.
"Gecko," he said, "I got problem."
"I've been meaning to mention that," I said. "You know, a little mouthwashâ"
"Not funny," he rumbled. "Problem big."
He was serious.
I'd never figured myself as a friendly ear for schoolyard thugs, but what the heck. I bit.
"What's on your mind?" I asked. "And I use that term loosely."
Herman sighed like an avalanche on a distant mountain. "Team in trouble. Coach blame me."
The Gila monster was a fearsome football player. Several times, he'd been kicked off the team for his hijinks, but they always brought him back. Emerson Hicky Elementary took its sports seriously, and a monster on the front line is hard to find.
Like I cared about that.
"So," I asked, "why are you telling me about it?"
Herman's heavy head swung my way. "Players disappearing," he said. "Not my fault. Gecko can find players."
"Oh no. Not me," I said.
"Gecko will help," he growled. "Or Gecko will
need
help." The Gila monster shook his other fist meaningfully. I got the picture.
Then, a thought took that long, lonely trip across Herman's mind. His fangs twinkled in a smile. "Plus, Herman will pay. One chocolate cake for every player you find."
I smiled back. "That should've been the first thing you said, buddy boy. Tell the nice detective all about it."
Look for more mysteries from the Tattered Casebook
of Chet Gecko in hardcover and paperback
Case #1 The Chameleon Wore Chartreuse
Some cases start rough, some cases start easy. This one started with a dame. (That's what we private eyes call a girl.) She was cute and green and scaly. She looked like trouble and smelled like ... grasshoppers.
Shirley Chameleon came to me when her little brother, Billy, turned up missing. (I suspect she also came to spread cooties, but that's another story.) She turned on the tears. She promised me some stinkbug pie. I said I'd find the brat.
But when his trail led to a certain stinky-breathed, bad-tempered, jumbo-sized Gila monster, I thought I'd bitten off more than I could chew. Worse, I had to chew fast: If I didn't find Billy in time, it would be bye-bye, stinkbug pie.
Case #2 The Mystery of Mr. Nice
How would you know if some criminal mastermind tried to impersonate your principal? My first clue: He was nice to me.
This fiend tried everythingâflattery, friendship, foodâbut he still couldn't keep me off the case. Natalie and I followed a trail of clues as thin as the cheese on a cafeteria hamburger. And we found a ring of corruption that went from the janitor right up to Mr. Big.
In the nick of time, we rescued Principal Zero and busted up the PTA meeting, putting a stop to the evil genius. And what thanks did we get? Just the usual. A cold handshake and a warm soda.
But that's all in a day's work for a private eye.
Case #3 Farewell, My Lunchbag
If danger is my business, then dinner is my passion. I'll take any case if the pay is right. And what pay could be better than Mothloaf Surprise?
At least that's what I thought. But in this particular case I bit off more than I could chew.
Cafeteria lady Mrs. Bagoong hired me to track down whoever was stealing her food supplies. The long, slimy trail led too close to my own backyard for comfort.
And much, much too close to my old archenemy, Jimmy "King" Cobra. Without the help of Natalie Attired and our school janitor, Maureen DeBree, I would've been gecko sushi.
Case #4 The Big Nap
My grades were lower than a salamander's slippers, and my bank account was trying to crawl under a duck's belly. So why did I take a case that didn't pay anything?
Put