“We’d like to see some of the offices, like Juliet’s new office,” Jupe said, trying to sound casual about it.
“I want to see where the food is made and what kind of stuff goes into it, too,” Pete said.
“So you want to meet my mad scientists, do you?” Barney asked, rolling his eyes wildly. “Okay, I’ll have them taken out of their cages just for you. And then I want you” — he pulled the visor down over Jupe’s eyes — “to taste something special.” Big Barney started guiding, although it was more like pushing, Jupe and Pete down the hallways. “You’re not going to believe this new product. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe it and it’s my invention.”
They took an elevator and toured the offices. Whenever Pete and Jupe could get away from Big Barney for a minute, they asked people if Juliet had been there on the Friday of the accident. One accountant said he had seen her that day. But he didn’t remember anything about a briefcase. A few other people mentioned that they’d seen Juliet’s Mustang in the parking lot when they left work — but there were no other strong leads.
Finally Big Barney took Pete and Jupe down to the basement, to a large scientific laboratory behind locked glass doors. There were warning signs saying keep out all around the electronic checkpoint entrance.
When Big Barney pushed a plastic card into an electronic box, the glass doors began to slide open. “Repeat after me,” Big Barney said, looking down at Pete and Jupe. “I will tell no one about Drippin’ Chicken.”
“I will tell no one about Drippin’ Chicken,” Pete and Jupe said.
“Okay, let’s get down to business. Pandro!” Big Barney’s voice boomed and shook the glass walls of the laboratory.
Instantly a squat, burly, bald man with gold wire-rimmed glasses came marching over. He wore a long white lab jacket that had a row of Chicken Coop pins fastened above the pocket like military medals. And he actually saluted.
“Meet Pandro Mishkin,” Big Barney said, pounding the man on the back. It was like pounding a mailbox. “You’ll never guess where Pandro came to me from!”
I’ll bet it was Disneyland, Pete thought to himself. But he played it straight and asked, “Where?”
“The Pentagon,” Big Barney answered. “At least his laboratory in Washington was within five blocks of the Pentagon. Close enough.”
Actually, the Pentagon is across the Potomac River in Arlington, Virginia, Jupe thought to himself. But he kept his mouth shut.
Big Barney pushed his paramilitary employee forward. Pandro Mishkin shook hands with the Investigators. His hands were clammy and cold.
“Pandro is a flavor specialist, and he’s my head of R&D,” Big Barney continued, using the abbreviation for Research and Development. “And if he does a really good job, I’ll teach him the other twenty-four letters, too. Haha! Pandro, the boys would like an order of Drippin’ Chicken.”
Pandro looked at Jupe and Pete suspiciously. “Civilians, sir?” he said.
“They’re okay, Pandro,” Big Barney said. “What year did we introduce wings on a string? It was right after I saw soap on a rope.”
“1985,” answered Pandro.
“June 22, 1985,” answered Jupe.
“The guy is a walking unauthorized biography. I love him,” Big Barney said. “Go get us some Drippin’ Chicken, Pandro.”
“Yes, sir,” Pandro said. He didn’t salute this time. But for a moment he did look like he wanted to click his heels together. Then he marched down the hall-way toward a laboratory kitchen, using a key to unlock the door.
“What is Drippin’ Chicken?” Pete asked after Pandro was gone.
“Picture this,” Big Barney said. “A Chicken Coop boneless white meat chicken patty, deep fried, in a golden baked biscuit.”
“I can picture it,” said Jupe, almost breathlessly.
“Now, what’s wrong with that picture?” asked Big Barney.
“Nothing,” said Jupe. “Nothing at all.”
“Where’s the gravy?” asked Big Barney, grinning like a very large child with a secret he couldn’t wait to tell.
“You’re introducing gravy in a pump?” Jupe guessed.
Big Barney just shook his head. “The gravy,” he said, savoring every word, “is in the chicken.”
Pete was getting hungry. Jupe was absolutely awestruck.
“You get a bucket of fantabulous gravy in every bite of Drippin’ Chicken,” pronounced Big Barney. “My brand-new top-secret recipe puts a whole ladleful of real down-home gravy right inside each boneless white meat chicken patty. The American people won’t know what hit them.”
Big Barney’s last words gave Jupe and Pete a sudden case of chills. They looked at each other. A moment ago they were salivating for Drippin’ Chicken. But now both of them were thinking the same thought. Why wouldn’t the American people know what hit them? Maybe it was because the Drippin’ Chicken was poisoned!
It made perfect sense. Big Barney was bringing out a new product and Juliet was having nightmares. It could be a coincidence. but Jupe’s radar told him that Big Barney’s super-secret Drippin’ Chicken was the subject of Juliet’s fears. Her words echoed in their ears: “He’s poisoning the chicken. Millions will die.”
“They’re nice and hot!” Pandro called from the laboratory kitchen.
“Come on, guys. I want you to be my guinea pigs,” said Big Barney. “I want you to be the first to try Drippin’ Chicken!”
Big Barney looked at Pete and Jupe expectantly. Did they realize what an honor they’d been given?
Pete looked at his watch. “It’s not lunchtime,” he said.
“My diet says no fried foods,” Jupe said.
“No excuses!” Big Barney bellowed. “The Drippin’ Chicken is hot. You guys got to learn to grab your chances — ’cause you never know when your timer is going to start beeping, telling you you’re cooked!”
There was no way they could get out of tasting the Drippin’ Chicken without seeming very suspicious. So Jupe and Pete started slowly walking down the hallway. Holding a tray, Pandro left the lab kitchen and steered them into his office across the hall. Fortunately Big Barney didn’t follow them into the room. Instead, he called Pandro back out into the hallway for a quick huddle.
Inside Pandro’s office, on his modern glass and steel desk, sat two steaming Drippin’ Chicken biscuit-sandwiches.
“They look superb,” Jupe said.
“Are you nuts? They could be poison. We’ve got to lose them. Put ’em in your pockets,” Pete said.
Jupe looked down at his blue jeans, which were already a little on the
