Pinky Bloom and the Case of the Missing Kiddush Cup Page 2

  “That’s a good start. Wait here, I’ll look them up online.” I ran to the living room to ask Dad if I could use the computer.

  Avi was already out there with Dad. “Important announcement!” my brother declared. “I might be moving back into my own room.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, trying not to sound too excited.

  “Grandma Phyllis just called,” Dad explained. “She just saw on the news that there was a burglary at the Jewish Museum—”

  “Some stuff got stolen from the exhibit Grandma Phyllis wants to see,” Avi broke in. “That really old Kiddush cup and something else . . .”

  “A Torah pointer,” said Dad. “The exhibit’s temporarily closed until the cup can be located, so Grandma Phyllis might not come to visit.”

  I felt bad about the burglary and Grandma Phyllis not coming, but I was happy to get my room back. “Go get your stuff out of my room, Avi!” I ordered him. Then I asked Dad for some computer time.

  Five minutes later, I was back in my room with Lucy. “I can’t find anything about that fortune cookie company online! Can you ask your parents where the company is and how they heard about it?”

  “Sure. But what about the other stuff that’s been happening at the restaurant?”

  “Well, so far we have three suspects: the Wongs and Joe the Waiter.”

  “But why would any of them try to cause trouble for the restaurant when their jobs depend on it?”

  “Well, maybe they don’t actually like their jobs. Chef Wong isn’t exactly cheerful. He threatened to turn me into chop suey. And Joe the Waiter sure doesn’t seem like he cares much about being a good waiter. He messed up all our orders—and he spilled food all over a guy from the Jewish Museum and didn’t even apologize.”

  “Mr. Federman? Oh no. My mom told me he eats at the restaurant all the time,” Lucy said. “I hope we don’t lose one of our most loyal customers.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “If he eats there a lot, maybe he’s seen something that can help us crack the case. Let’s talk to him next time he comes back.”

  “If he comes back,” Lucy said glumly. “Pinky, what’s next? Am I going to have to move to Queens?”

  “Don’t worry, Lucy—you’ve got me, Pinky Bloom, Brooklyn’s greatest kid detective, on the case.” I tried to sound positive, but this was turning out to be a lot tougher than finding Rachel’s retainer.

  It was time to pay a visit to Brooklyn’s greatest psychic!

  Chapter Seven

  Everyone in my neighborhood knows Madame Olga. She works out of a storefront a block away from my home. A sign in her window says Madame Olga, Spiritual Advisor and Psychic to Famous People.

  Once when she was babysitting Avi and me (that’s her job when she isn’t being psychic), I asked her which famous people got their fortunes read.

  “It’s top secret, Pinky,” she told me. “But I can give you a hint.”

  Then she wrote the initials D.J. on a scrap of paper and showed it to me.

  “No way!” I shouted. “Was he really here?”

  “I cannot say, darling. But you are the detective, so you must figure it out!”

  On Friday morning Mom gave me permission to visit Madame Olga after school. “Take your brother with you,” she said. “I have to do some shopping for Shabbat.”

  That afternoon I waited for Avi outside the entrance to Ohav Shalom. The boys’ and girls’ classes are separate, so we don’t see each other during the school day.

  “Over here, Avi!” I shouted when I spotted him leaving the building with a pack of boys.

  He jogged over to me. “Pinky, we have to go straight home,” he declared. “Moshe is coming over and we’re shooting hoops in the playground.”

  “Great, but first we have to stop at Madame Olga’s.”

  “I don’t want to go there! I want to go home.”

  I had to think of something quickly, before Avi had a meltdown. “Look, if you come with me to Madame Olga’s you can play with her cat.”

  Madame Olga had found a stray cat in an alleyway behind her building. She named it Oy Vey because that’s what she yelled when the cat gave birth to four kittens.

  “No way, I’m not going!” Avi insisted, stomping his foot. But I knew Avi loved anything with four legs and a tail. “Oy Vey just had kittens,” I offered slyly.

  Avi sighed. “Okay, I’ll go. But only if we stop by Mazer’s Bakery, and you buy me a cookie.”

  “Okay, fine.” Mazer’s Bakery is just two blocks from Madame Olga’s, next door to the Lotus Blossom Kosher Chinese Restaurant. And I figured I had enough money left over from lunch to buy a cookie.

  When we got to the bakery, Mrs. Mazer was behind the counter.

  “Nu?” she said, tapping her fingers on the glass. “You think I have all day to stand here until you decide?”

  Avi spoke up first. “I want a black-and-white cookie, please,” he said.

  Mrs. Mazer wrapped up the cookie. “That’ll be a dollar. And don’t give me all pennies. I have enough of them.”

  I fished my nickels and dimes out of my jacket pocket and laid them on the counter.

  Mrs. Mazer counted the coins. “It’s not enough. You’re a quarter short.”

  I dug into my other pocket and came up with three acorns and a ticket stub from the Yankees baseball game we’d gone to over the summer.

  Suddenly an arm reached over my shoulder and plunked a quarter down on the counter.

  I spun around and saw that it was Joe the Waiter!

  “Uh—thanks,” I stuttered. “That was really nice of you.”

  “No problem,” he said. “And don’t forget your cookie.”

  I took the bag from Mrs. Mazer, and we hurried out of the bakery.

  On the way to Madame Olga’s, I stopped to tie my shoelace. I looked back and saw someone standing about half a block behind us. His face was hidden by the shadows of a building, but I could tell he was staring at us.

  “Walk faster,” I told Avi. “I think we’re being followed!”

  Chapter Eight

  A handwritten sign was posted on Madame Olga’s door: The Psychic Is In. Please Knock. I Might Be Taking My Nap.

  I knocked softly and waited a few seconds. When there was no answer, I knocked again.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I heard her say. “Who’s in such a rush they can’t wait for a person to answer the door?”

  The door opened a crack, and Madame Olga peered out. “Oh, it’s you, Pinky. I see you brought Avi. Come in, bubeleh.”

  Madame Olga was dressed in a long, flowery skirt. Hanging from a chain around her neck was a hamesh hand to ward off the evil eye.

  We walked down a narrow hallway and turned into the small living room where Oy Vey was nestled on an overstuffed couch nursing her four kittens. In the center of the room was a wooden table with the glass globe that Madame Olga used to tell her fortunes.

  Avi walked over to the couch—quietly, so he wouldn’t disturb Oy Vey and her kittens.

  “Sit, Pinky darling,” Madame Olga said, pulling up a chair for me. “Do you want something to eat? I just made a nice coffee cake. Better than what you’d find at Mazer’s Bakery, and she has the nerve to charge eight dollars for a babka.”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said. “I came here because I need your help.”

  Madame Olga put her hand over her heart. “Oy, boy trouble already?”

  Avi blurted out, “She likes Noah, but he has a girlfriend.”

  “Mind your business,” I shot back. “And anyway, I don’t like boys.”

  “Well then, what’s the matter?” Madame Olga asked gently. “I want to help if I can.”

  I took in a deep breath. “The problem is my best friend, Lucy. She might move away because her family’s restaurant is haunted.”

  I told Madame Olga about the false alarms and how we saw a mouse in the restaurant.

  “Nu, it’s not the only restaurant in Brooklyn with mice,” she said with a shrug. “Tell
me more.”

  I pulled out the slips of paper with our fortunes. “These were in our cookies.”

  “These fortunes are enough to give a person heartburn! So who else was in the restaurant that night?”

  “There was Mrs. Wong, the hostess, and her husband, the chef. And then Joe the Waiter and Mr. Federman.”

  “Federman? I know him—charming man. Didn’t I see that his museum got robbed last week? Such a shame—those gonifs, those thieves, stole a gold Kiddush cup from hundreds of years ago . . .”

  “There was one more person in the restaurant,” Avi piped up.

  I spun around in my seat. “No, there wasn’t!”

  “You’re wrong, Pinky. I saw a lady with a hat and sunglasses when I went to the bathroom.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “I just did!” Avi shouted.

  “Children, children,” Madame Olga scolded. “Avi, darling, please tell us about this lady.”

  “She was carrying a little cage,” he said. “It looked a lot like the one my friend Moshe has for his hamster.”

  I pulled out my notebook and added her to my list of suspects.

  My detective brain was telling me that this Hat Lady was up to no good!

  Chapter Nine

  “What else did you see in the restaurant, Avi?” I asked my star witness as sweetly as possible.

  “What’s it worth, Pinky? And you’d better make it good.”

  I quickly offered him two lollipops, a chocolate candy bar, and the use of my new catcher’s mitt. All good detectives know there’s nothing like a bribe to get a person talking. And it worked.

  Avi handed me a scrap of crumpled paper. “The Hat Lady dropped this,” he explained. “It happened just as I came out of the bathroom, but by the time I picked up the paper to give it back to her, she was gone.”

  I handed the paper to Madame Olga.

  She put on her glasses. “This looks like a piece of some kind of order form,” she said. “It says here, Six pumpernickel, nine seeded rye bread, and two dozen rolls. There’s also a phone number with a Brooklyn area code.”

  “Okay, so we have an order for bread and a phone number,” I said. “What do we do now?”

  “Trust me, bubeleh—now we consult with the higher powers.”

  I glanced over at the crystal ball. Hey, I’ll try anything, even if it means gazing into a matzo ball!

  “Not the ball, Pinky,” Madame Olga said. “That’s for the tourists.”

  I watched as she reached under the table and pulled out her laptop computer. “Here’s what we need, darlings!”

  Avi and I watched as Madame Olga typed in the phone number on the paper. The results of her search popped up a second later.

  “Whose number is it?” Avi asked.

  “It belongs to the Seaside Cafe.” Madame Olga pointed to the top search result. “It’s a restaurant inside the New York Aquarium. So we make a visit and find out what kind of monkey business this Hat Lady is up to.”

  Chapter Ten

  Avi and I got home from Madame Olga’s before sunset, just in time for Shabbat.

  Mom had set the dining room table with her good dishes. “Lucy is joining us for Shabbat dinner,” she informed me.

  That was good news. I was anxious to catch Lucy up on everything I had learned at Madame Olga’s and see if she’d found out anything new.

  Mom was about to light the Shabbat candles when there was a knock on the front door and in walked Grandma Phyllis. “Shabbat shalom!” she cried. “I decided to come after all!”

  I was happy to see Grandma Phyllis, but judging by the looks of her overstuffed bag, she was planning to stay a long time.

  It was time to light the candles. “Baruch Atah, Adonai, Eloheinu, Melech Haolam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav, v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat,” Mom chanted.

  Dad lifted up Great-Grandma Bloom’s Kiddush cup and blessed the wine: “Baruch Atah, Adonai, Eloheinu, Melech Haolam, borei p’ri hagafen.”

  Avi and I drank grape juice as he touched our heads and said a blessing for children.

  Next, he lifted the challah cover and made Ha Motzi over the bread: “Baruch Atah, Adonai, Eloheinu, Melech Haolam, Hamotzi lechem min haaretz.”

  Grandma Phyllis passed around pieces of challah sprinkled with salt.

  “I guess you heard about the thefts at the Jewish Museum?” she said. “A Kiddush cup and a Torah pointer went missing from the special exhibit.”

  “Why would anyone want to steal those things?” Lucy asked.

  “Well, they’re very valuable,” Dad explained. “They’re sacred, one-of-a-kind artifacts from many centuries ago and can never be replaced. And I’m sure a thief could sell them on the black market for a lot of money.”

  At the end of the meal Lucy thanked everyone, and the two of us raced down the hall to my room. “I haven’t had a chance to ask my parents about the fortune cookie company,” she said. “They’ve been so busy with work, and when they’re not working they don’t want to talk about the restaurant. Do you have any good leads, Pinky?”

  I told her about the Hat Lady. “She was carrying some sort of cage, so I think she might’ve brought a mouse into the restaurant.”

  Lucy gasped and then frowned in concentration. “So how do we track her down?”

  “Avi found a slip of paper she dropped. It was a bread order from a restaurant at the New York Aquarium. Which means the Hat Lady has some kind of connection to a place that sells baked goods. I’m betting it’s the same company that makes your fortune cookies! And someone at the aquarium’s restaurant might be able to tell us about the Hat Lady.”

  Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go there tomorrow! It’s Saturday.”

  “It’s Shabbat tomorrow, so we’ll have to go Sunday. Madame Olga said she’ll go with us too.”

  Suddenly Avi barged into my room. “Hello, I’m moving in now,” he announced. “Pinky, can you give me a hand?”

  Oh no, my worst nightmare had come true!

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunday morning I was getting ready to meet Madame Olga at the subway station for our trip to the New York Aquarium.

  “I’m going with you, Pinky Brace-Face,” Avi told me firmly. “And you can’t stop me.”

  “No, you’re not, Avi Know-It-All. I’m working on a case and it doesn’t include you.”

  Avi stomped his foot. “Yes I am, Mom said so.”

  This called for desperate measures. “I bet you didn’t know that the sharks in the aquarium can swallow a kid your size in one bite,” I said.

  “I’m not afraid of sharks, Pinky,” Avi assured me smugly.

  “They also have giant octopuses that wrap their arms around second graders and squeeze the guts out of them.”

  Avi shrugged his shoulders. “I can spell octopus backwards,” he said. “S-u-p-o-t-c-o!”

  “That’s so annoying, Avi. And you’re still not going with us.”

  Just then Mom stepped into the room. “Pinky, Grandma Phyllis and I are leaving to go shopping. You can take Avi with you to the aquarium.”

  “Can’t he stay with Dad?”

  “Dad’s going to the bagel breakfast at the synagogue. I checked with Madame Olga, and she said she’d love to have Avi come along.”

  It looked as if I’d lost this round. I told Avi to go back to his room and get his things. “Only bring the stuff you need,” I said.

  “I’m bringing my Cub Scout Manual and hand sanitizer. Grandma Phyllis told me I have to use it after I touch a shark.”

  “Whatever, Avi,” I said, throwing a pair of binoculars and a wrapped-up slice of challah into my backpack. The binoculars were to see things far away, and the challah was because detective work makes me hungry.

  When we were ready, Avi and I headed down to Lucy’s floor. Lucy was waiting for us at the door to her apartment. “I’m bringing my good-luck charm. It’s a tiny dog made out of jade.”

  “I’m wearing a good-luck necklace t
oo!” I said. I showed her the necklace Grandma Phyllis had given me for my last birthday. It was shaped like the word chai for good luck.

  “I still haven’t been able to find out more about the fortune cookie company,” Lucy added apologetically. “So I really hope we get some clues today!”

  I nodded. “We’d better get going. Madame Olga’s waiting for us at the train station.”

  Lucy and I walked fast, but Avi lagged behind. “Hurry up or we’ll miss our train!” I shouted.

  I backtracked and grabbed hold of his arm so he’d walk faster.

  “Pinky, look what you’ve done,” he yelled. “You made me step on a crack. Now we’re going to have bad luck.”

  I needed all the luck I could get to solve this mystery.

  The rest of the way to the train station I made sure not to step on any cracks!

  Chapter Twelve

  We could hear the roar of the elevated trains above us as we got closer to the subway station. Avi, Lucy, and I hiked up the stairs to the platform where Madame Olga was waiting for us.

  “Look what I brought, darlings,” she said, holding up a shopping bag. “It’s a little nosh in case you get hungry.”

  I took one look at the bag and thought she must have packed enough snacks to feed all the kids in Brooklyn.

  “We’ll take the W train to West 8th Street in Coney Island,” Madame Olga told us. “From there we’ll walk to the aquarium.”

  Since it was Sunday, there weren’t too many people waiting to catch a train. Even the kiosk that sold water and magazines was closed. A little girl in a stroller was eating a bagel, and it reminded me that I hadn’t had breakfast.

  Just as I was about to ask Madame Olga to share her bag of snacks, a man in a gray jacket walked over to us. He looked familiar. “Madame Olga! What a lovely coincidence!”

  “Mr. Federman!” exclaimed Madame Olga. “Good morning! Darlings, this is Mr. Federman from the Jewish Museum.” She introduced the three of us, and he shook our hands.

  “Of course, your parents own the Lotus Blossom Restaurant,” Mr. Federman said, smiling at Lucy. “And I remember seeing your friends there.” He winked at Avi.