“It’s not. It’s about Mister Brussard.”
His dad looked at him. “What about him?”
Jack told him about the meetings, the little red boxes, the warnings about the
klazen, the lies, and the three deaths.
Dad was staring at him. “You shouldn’t be snooping on people. This is what happens with half-heard conversations. It’s cal ed taking things out of
context.”
“But they’re dead, Dad. Three visits, three red boxes, three dead people.”
He couldn’t know if Mr. Sumter had been given a box, but he assumed so.
“And you suspect Gordie Brussard of kil ing them?”
“Don’t you think it looks that way?”
A smile played around his dad’s lips. “Since when did you become one of the Hardy Boys?”
Angry, Jack clenched his jaw. He’d known someone would think that. He’d even thought it himself. But this wasn’t a novel. This was real y happening,
right here in Johnson, New Jersey.
“Cal me a Hardy Boy, cal me Nancy Drew, but there’s something going on.”
Dad sighed. “Remember that discussion we had about jumping to conclusions? Remember the trouble
Jack nodded. “Yeah.”
Dad had explained that the Latin phrase meant
“Wel , this is most likely a good example of that kind of thinking. Step back and look at it: What would Brussard’s motive be?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Right. And I can’t think of one either. Those three dead men are his Lodge brothers. They’re a very tight group.”
“But he said the klazen would find the ones ‘responsible.’”
“Responsible for what?”
Jack shrugged. “Murdering that man I found? I mean, that’s when people started dying.”
“There you go again, Jack. That’s a
Do you believe that?”
“Wel , it could be. The man was a Lodger that nobody even knew was dead until I found him, and then three Lodge members die in the week after his
body is identified. You think that’s just coincidence?”
Dad was silent a moment, then, “Odds are it is, but I have to admit it’s one hel of a coincidence.”
Yes! Dad was beginning to see the light.
“But,” Dad went on, “it’s also one hel of a leap to accuse Gordon Brussard of doing the kil ing. I’d almost prefer to blame this mysterious klazen.”
That shocked Jack. His dad was the least superstitious person on Earth.
“But no one’s ever heard of it. It doesn’t exist.”
“It doesn’t have to, Jack. Al it needs is for some people to believe it exists. Like voodoo. People who believe in voodoo and learn that it’s being used
against them wil often sicken, and some have even died. Because they
sort of crazy crap—”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. They keep it to themselves. But when I was being courted they made veiled references to al the secret knowledge I would be privy to once
I joined. So maybe if they believe a kil er klazen is after them, they work themselves up into a heart attack. Don’t forget, they al died of cardiac arrest in
public places. Nothing came and tore their throats out.”
Jack wasn’t giving up. “But what’s in those little red boxes? What if it’s some sort of amulet with a spring- loaded poison needle?”
Dad laughed. “That’s it! No more. Any more pulp fiction talk like that and I’l send those old magazines straight back to Mister Rosen.”
Wel , okay, Jack thought as he took the stairs down, maybe an amulet with a poison needle was taking it too far, but something was going on. Had to
