The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

attire, and every time a businessman in a suit looked at the children their hearts skipped. Never had walking down a street been so nerve-racking. They were all relieved when they reached the hotel.

The Hotel Regaal had seen better days — its lobby furniture was rickety, its floors were scuffed, and a musty odor hung in the air — but despite having been upstaged by more modern hotels, it was doing its best to retain a semblance of past splendor. The rickety furniture was polished to a shine, the scuffed floors were immaculately swept, and the front desk clerks were well groomed and professional. One of them, an older man with slicked gray hair, said something in Dutch when the children came in. The other clerk, a frail, pallid, severe-looking woman with dark circles under her eyes, nodded her agreement.

“There it is again,” said Constance, frowning.

This time Reynie had noticed it, too — the phrase uttered first by the poodle woman and then the snack cart owner. The coincidence seemed too significant to let pass. With the others behind him, Reynie approached the clerks and asked if they spoke English. Instantly a look of understanding appeared on both faces.

“Of course we speak English,” said the gray-haired man, not unkindly. He had bright red cheeks and a goatee so thin and small it looked like a thumbprint on his chin. “And how may we help you children?”

“May I ask what you just said about us?” Reynie asked. “We’ve heard others say it, too, and we’re curious.”

“You are attentive children, then!” said the man, sounding both amused and impressed. “I said that you should be in school! These others you mention must have thought, as I did, that you were Dutch children, and that you were truant. But you are American, yes? On a school trip of some kind?”

“Something like that,” said Kate.

Reynie felt foolish and not a little uneasy. Traveling across town the four of them must have been much more conspicuous than they’d hoped. There was no help for that now, but it was all the more reason to find the clue and leave as quickly as possible. “Is there a message here for us?” he asked. “A message from someone named Nicholas Benedict?”

The man broke into a delighted grin. “Benedict, you say? Here you are at last! Did you hear about this mysterious arrangement, Daatje?” he asked his partner, who only looked away, as if she preferred to be left alone. “I suppose not,” the man said and turned back to the children. His enthusiasm was undiminished, not least because of the relief so evident on the children’s faces. “My name is Hubrecht, children, and I am very pleased to meet you! I do have something from Benedict. Yes, indeed I do!”

The children waited, but Hubrecht only looked at them with an encouraging smile. He appeared to be waiting for something himself.

“May we, um, see it?” Kate asked. “Please?”

Hubrecht glanced left and right, and then in a comically conspiratorial manner he leaned forward and whispered, “First you must show me . . . the item.” He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically.

“The item?” said Sticky.

“Oh, yes! Your Mr. Benedict has rented a room, and I am to make it available to anyone who mentions his name — provided I am shown a certain item. Do you have it? He said you will not have come here without it. I cannot say more.”

“Not another riddle,” Sticky said wearily.

Reynie scratched his head. “All right, what is it Mr. Benedict knew we’d bring?”

“My bucket?” Kate asked. “I do always have it with me.”

Hubrecht smiled and shook his head. He glanced at Constance as if expecting her to guess, but Constance had noticed a wad of gum stuck under the edge of the desk and was making unpleasant gagging sounds, so Hubrecht looked politely away.

“If Mr. Benedict’s sure we’ll have brought it,” said Reynie, “it’s probably something we’d have to have with us to get here.”

“Maybe it’s clothes,” Sticky ventured.

The others stared at him.

“Oh yes, it must be clothes, Sticky,” Constance said as Kate suppressed a snort of laughter. “Show him your clothes and see if that gets us into the room.”

“It’s not such a dumb idea,” Sticky said defensively. “Without clothes we’d have been arrested by now, right? We couldn’t have come here then, could we?” But Hubrecht was shaking his head.

Embarrassed, Sticky gave Constance a sharp poke in the ribs for mocking him. Constance cried out and responded with a kick to the shin; then, pleased with the result (Sticky was grimacing and hopping), she quickly tried for another.

“How about a train schedule?” asked Kate, ignoring the scuffle. “Or a ticket?”

Hubrecht shook his head. Again he glanced at Constance, as if he expected her to have the answer — and this time Reynie understood why. She did have the answer, and Hubrecht had spotted it.

“Your present!” he said, pointing to Constance’s globe pendant. (Constance stopped trying to bite Sticky’s hand and looked down in surprise.) “We couldn’t have come here without it!”

Hubrecht clapped his hands. “That is it! A small world — just as your Mr. Benedict said! Very well, children, you shall have a key.” He reached beneath the desk. “This is a scavenger hunt of some kind, yes? What fun! I have been wondering when someone else would come.”

Reynie took the room key from Hubrecht. “When you say ‘someone else,’ do you mean another person came before us?”

“Oh, yes! It is a contest, correct? The adults against the children, maybe? Never fear! You are the first to be given a key. No one else has entered the room — not even hotel staff. These were Mr. Benedict’s instructions.”