The Mystery of the Rogues' Reunion - Marc Brandel [7]
“Now that we’re all here” — Bonehead reached out and touched Jupe’s arm to draw
him closer into the group — “I’ve got a suggestion to make. Something that’s important to every one of us.”
“But we’re not all here yet,” Peggy reminded him. “We’re still waiting for Flapjack.”
“Flapjack’s not coming,” Footsie told her.
“Oh, why not?” Peggy sounded disappointed.
Jupe was disappointed too. Of all the Wee Rogues he had liked Flapjack the best. The black kid was the only one, except for Peggy, who hadn’t picked on him or tried to make him feel like a fat baby nuisance.
“Either they couldn’t find him or he couldn’t make it,” Bloodhound said with a shrug.
“So we’re all here,” Bonehead went on. “And we’re all here for one thing.” He tapped the breast pocket of his leather jacket. “The loot. The money. Right?”
“Right,” Bloodhound agreed doubtfully.
“Yeah,” Footsie said. “That’s the only thing we’re here for.”
Peggy nodded seriously.
“Right?” Bonehead was looking at Jupiter.
Jupe hesitated. Although he would be glad to win the twenty thousand dollars—he could put it aside for his college education—it wasn’t strictly true that he had come to the reunion and agreed to compete on the TV quiz show for the sake of the money. He had agreed because he thought it would give him a chance to get back at the kids who had made his life miserable when he was a three-year-old child. But this didn’t seem to be the right moment to explain that to them.
“Okay,” Jupe said.
“Now, part of the programme for this get-together,” Bonehead went on, “is that we should all sit around after lunch and have a little chat about the good old days. Right?”
Peggy nodded again.
They might be the old days, Jupe thought, but he couldn’t remember much that was good about them. He didn’t say anything.
“And our friendly director over there” — Bonehead flipped his thumb quickly towards the white—haired man who was standing with Milton Glass — “is going to tape us while we talk so they can show it on television before the first quiz show begins.”
Jupe glanced quickly over his shoulder. He remembered who the white—haired man was now. His name was Luther Lomax and he had directed every one of the Wee Rogues comedies. It wasn’t surprising he hadn’t recognized the director, Jupe thought. Luther Lomax had changed even more than the Wee Rogues had. Jupe remembered him as a tall, imposing figure who had cracked the whip over all of them with the authority of a lion tamer. “Lights, camera, action!” he used to shout at them. He looked old and stooped and sort of beaten now.
“So, okay.” Bonehead was still talking. “If they want us to appear on their television talk show, they’ll have to pay us for it. Right?”
He looked at each member of the group in turn again, waiting for an answer.
They all nodded except for Jupe.
“Well?” Bonehead challenged him. “What do you say?”
Jupe paused, thinking hard. If he went along with Bone—head’s suggestion, he would be admitting that Bonehead was the leader, the spokesman for them all, as he had once been the ringleader of the awful kids who had played those stupid practical jokes on Jupe as a child.
That idea went against Jupe’s whole character. He was used to being the leader himself. As the First Investigator, if he didn’t exactly give the other two Investigators orders, at least he made most decisions for them.
On the other hand, he thought Bonehead’s suggestion was a pretty good one. If the studio wanted them to appear in a talk show segment before the first quiz show — even though they would only be talking and not really acting — it made sense that they should be paid for appearing.
Jupe nodded.
Bonehead put his thumb and forefinger in his mouth and gave a piercing whistle.
“Hey, you. Glass,” he called across to the publicity man.
Milton Glass walked over to them with his usual brilliant crescent moon of a smile. Luther Lomax, the director, followed him almost timidly. Like an obedient elderly dog walking behind his master, Jupe thought.
“What can I do for you?” Glass enquired