The Pet Show Mystery

seconds after the three of them were settled on the springy, vinyl-covered seats of a back booth. Trixie and Honey clutched their thick white mugs in both hands, enjoying the warmth. David Llewelyn made small circles with his coffee cup on the scratched and scarred wood table.
    Soon Trixie began to feel nervous again. The only cure, she knew, was to end the silence. “So. Are you one of Paul Gale’s followers?” she asked.
    David Llewelyn looked up, slightly startled. Then his eyes took on their amused twinkle once again. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose I am. But I believe I was the first to ask for an explanation, back there by the foundation office. So I think you should be the first to give one.”
    Trixie hesitated, but Honey seemed to have warmed to David Llewelyn. “We think he might be trying to sabotage the pet show,” she said. Quickly, she sketched in the details— Gale’s criticism of the show on television, the rumor, and the cancellation announcement on the radio. As she spoke, she seemed to realize how sketchy the details were; how thin the thread was that linked Paul Gale to the sabotage. .“We aren’t ready to accuse him of anything, of course,” she added. “That’s why we put up the poster and waited for his reaction to it. We need more proof that he’s our man.” David Llewelyn listened to Honey with an expression of calm seriousness. When she had finished, however, he shook his head. “I don’t think the sabotage is the kind of thing Paul Gale would do.”
    “I know it seems strange, when he has such a reputation for good deeds, but—” Honey’s defense of their suspicion was cut short by a gesture of David Llewelyn’s upraised hand.
    “That isn’t why I doubt your theory,” he said. “I am not blinded by the bright light of Paul Gale’s reputation, believe me. Nonetheless, I am not willing to believe that he has been actively sabotaging your pet show. That simply doesn’t fit in with—”
    The half-sentence lingered in the air. David Llewelyn busied himself with pouring another cup of coffee from the carafe, adding a precise measure of cream, and stirring slowly and carefully.
    Eventually, it became obvious that he had no intention of finishing the sentence—at least, not voluntarily.
    “Doesn’t fit in with what?” Trixie asked bluntly.
    David Llewelyn lifted his spoon out of the cup and shook it gently. He set it on the saucer. Then he picked up the cup and held it, seeming to weigh it. Finally he took a sip, set the cup down, and asked, “Can you girls keep a secret?”
    Trixie felt a thump of excitement in her chest. “You bet,” she said.
    “Of course we can,” Honey said.
    David Llewelyn shook his head again. “I believe that you mean what you say, but I don’t know if you understand how important this particular secret is. You can’t confide in another friend or your parents or a favorite teacher—nobody.”
    “We know about secrets,” Trixie said sternly.
    The look of confidence in her eyes seemed to convince David Llewelyn. He folded his hands on the table and began to talk. “The idea of Paul Gale sabotaging your pet show doesn’t fit in with what I’ve learned about him as a special investigator assigned to his case for the past six months,” he said.
    Trixie was breathless for a moment as the words sank in. She felt Honey shift excitedly on the seat next to her.
    David Llewelyn seemed purposely to have made his most startling announcement first. When he spoke again, it was in a more leisurely way. “I’m employed by the state Attorney General’s office,” he said. “I have been an investigator for nearly twenty-five years. My specialty is large-scale consumer fraud cases. That means someone is cheating the public out of thousands and thousands of dollars.
    “As I said, I’ve been assigned to the Paul Gale case for the past six months. We have reasons for believing that the World Anti-Hunger Foundation is not entirely on the level. We have no proof—a dilemma you girls apparently understand. My job is to find some.”
    “Do you mean that Paul Gale keeps the money for himself, instead of feeding the poor with it?” Honey asked, sounding shocked.
    “In fact, what we suspect is worse than that,” David Llewelyn said. “He does take the money to poor countries. Apparently he even buys some food with it, so that his operation looks legitimate. But we think he spends most of the money on gems—rubies, diamonds,