The Pet Show Mystery

Trixie replied. “You did a good job of convincing me he couldn’t have been, and yet—”
    “And yet,” David Llewelyn repeated. “I know. You did a fairly good job of convincing me, too.”
    “You mean you think Paul Gale is involved?” Trixie asked excitedly.
    “No, only that I’m less sure he isn’t. It may be, strange as it sounds, that Paul Gale has some aversion to this pet show. In his greed, he may be seeing it as depriving him of donations that would otherwise be his.” David Llewelyn shook his head. “This theory doesn’t sound very logical, but six months of logic haven’t helped on this case.”
    “It takes a lot more proof to convince people of something that sounds illogical,” Trixie said, speaking from bitter experience. “And there’s no way to prove that Paul Gale hates the pet show.”
    “Actually, there is,” David Llewelyn said. “Now I don’t want you to rush into this. I thought long and hard about even suggesting it to you.”
    “What?” Trixie asked. “What is it?”
    “Well, we could wire you—send you into the foundation office carrying a concealed microphone. You could strike up a conversation with Gale. If he says anything that’s remotely like a confession, I’d hear it—and I’d record it to use against him.”
    “Let’s do it!” Trixie exclaimed.
    “Now, wait—think about the risks. If he does have some sort of hatred for you and your pet show, this incident would only make it worse. If he explodes on the spot, I can come to your rescue. But if he keeps his cool, then starts stalking you later, there won’t be much I can do.”
    “S-stalking?” Trixie repeated. It was an ominous-sounding word. She cleared her throat. “I don’t care. If it gives us proof that Paul Gale is our saboteur, it’s worth it. Go ahead and wire me.”
    “Then wire me, too,” Honey said. “I’m not letting Trixie do this alone.”
    David Llewelyn smiled gently. “You don’t need two microphones. But the moral support will be most welcome, I’m sure.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the microphone. It was tiny, no larger than the metal piece at the eraser end of a pencil. There was a clip on the back, which Llewelyn attached to the collar of Trixie’s turtleneck sweater. “Leave your coat unbuttoned, and the collar will conceal the mike,” he said.
    “That’s it? That’s all? I’m ready to go?” Trixie asked.
    David Llewelyn nodded. “Just turn and look back before you go into the foundation office. By that time, I’ll have taken a reading to make sure everything is working. If not, I’ll signal you to come back.”
    Trixie nodded and looked at Honey. “Let’s go,” she said. The two girls left the booth, with David Llewelyn trailing a safe distance behind. When they got to their destination, the girls turned around and looked back. David Llewelyn was pretending to look at some merchandise in a store window.
    “Should we wait here until he gives us a signal that everything is all right?” Honey asked.
    “That is the signal,” Trixie told her. She pushed open the door to the building and walked inside.
    There was no sign of the young blonde woman who had been in the office before. Instead, the girls were greeted by Paul Gale himself. “Good afternoon,” he said. “Welcome to the World Anti-Hunger Foundation. Would you like to know about the work we do here?”
    “Yes, we would,” Trixie said. “You see, we like to raise money for good causes, and we thought we’d do some work for the Anti-Hunger Foundation.”
    Paul Gale’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful!” he said. “We especially appreciate help from young people.”
    “Good. I’m sure we’ll enjoy helping,” Trixie said. “Except—” She paused and drew a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Except we can’t start quite yet. Right now, we’re working on a pet show to raise money to save the game birds that are dying this winter.”
    The light went out of Paul Gale’s eyes. “Of course, I should have recognized you from the Sleepyside Mall,” he said with a smirk. “Well, I’m glad I got you to realize that feeding the game birds is a waste of time. I don’t blame you for wanting to finish what you’ve already started, of course. But I’m glad you’ve decided to do something really worthwhile.”
    Trixie felt herself growing red with anger. She wanted to scream, At least we’re helping something besides ourselves and a bunch of black-market gem,