that!” she cried out.
“We can’t really know that — unless you can help us prove it,” Jupe said without missing a beat.
It was clear to everyone that his mind, as usual, was working well ahead of the conversation.
“What kind of scheme do you have in mind, Jupe?” Bob asked.
“It’s simple,” Jupe said. “We’ve got to find out if Big Barney knows about the Multisorbitane in the Drippin’ Chicken recipe. Any idea how we can do that?”
“I know how,” said Juliet. “My father keeps the recipes for his products in a safe in his office.”
Jupe snapped his fingers. “I was hoping he did. Can you get it for us?”
“I don’t know the combination of the safe,” she replied. “Only Big Barney knows it.”
“Well, that’s no good,” Jupe said. “We have to get the recipe without Big Barney knowing it. He can’t suspect what we’re doing.”
Juliet suddenly smiled. “How about Dad’s secretary?” Juliet asked. “She probably knows more about him than he does. She might know the combination.”
“Let’s go,” Pete said.
“No. I want to go by myself,” said Juliet. “I’m not even sure I should be doing this. Dad’s recipes are top secret — you’ll have to promise. ”
“Of course, of course,” Jupe said. “Now, when do you think we can expect you?”
“A couple of hours,” said Juliet.
Two hours came and went. The Three Investigators and Kelly spent the time doing what Juliet had suggested. Eat her food, watch her TV, relax. The third one was too difficult for Jupiter.
Another hour passed.
Finally the door opened and Juliet came in, carrying a piece of paper and giving everyone a large smile.
“I’ve got the recipe,” she whispered, looking around to be sure her father wasn’t home. “There’s no mention of Multisorbitane in Drippin’ Chicken’s ingredients. See? My dad isn’t some kind of crazed killer.”
Jupe grabbed the paper quickly and started reading it.
“Looks like our case is going down the tubes,” Pete said.
Jupe folded the paper and put it in his pocket. Then he looked at Juliet. “If no one is poisoning the chicken, then why did you say so in your sleep? And why was it so important to you to find your briefcase? And why was this report about Multisorbitane, with Pandro Mishkin’s stamp, in your possession?”
“I don’t know,” said Juliet.
“We don’t know either,” Jupe said solemnly. “But there are a few things we do know. For one, our list of suspects is shrinking rapidly. Your father seems to be out. Michael Argenti is out, because we have nothing to connect him with Multisorbitane or with this report from Pandro Mishkin. Pandro himself is a question mark. He could be innocent, he could be involved. But the suspect I’m most interested in is the person who didn’t want us to find this report. the person who sent Mr. Sweetness to scare us off. the person who invented Drippin’ Chicken in the first place. Don Dellasandro!”
“What now?” Kelly asked. “Call the police?”
“No. We need proof,” Jupe said. “We’ve got to get into Miracle Tastes and find out exactly what Don Dellasandro is hiding.”
“Jupe, the place is a Class A security nightmare,” Pete warned.
“Okay, then we’ll have to go in there late tonight,” said Jupe, “when the guards are half asleep.”
“You’d better make that early tonight,” Juliet said. “My dad’s secretary reminded me of something else I forgot. There’s a big press party planned for this evening. Big Barney is going to introduce Drippin’ Chicken to the world! Everyone will be eating the stuff,”
“Oh, no!” Kelly exclaimed.
Remembering Big Barney’s own words, Jupe said, “The American people won’t know what hit them!”
At 5:00 p.m. the investigators were sitting in Bob’s car, parked inconspicuously across the road from the Miracle Tastes office and warehouse building in Long Beach. They had stopped first at home to change into black jeans and black T-shirts. Jupe also brought with him a small, mysterious black leather case, which he held carefully on his lap. It was something Pete and Bob had never seen before.
“As soon as Dellasandro leaves, we make our move,” Jupe said, cradling the black box.
“How do we know he’s in there?” Bob asked.
“His car is there,” Pete said. “I recognize it.”
“When did you see it?” Bob asked, surprised.
“After the taping of Big Barney’s new commercial. I followed Big Barney, remember?” Pete said. “And he came here, to Miracle Tastes.”
Little by little, the parking lot at Miracle Tastes emptied out. But it wasn’t until 6:00 p.m. that Don Dellasandro’s gray Cadillac Allante rolled out and headed up the road toward L.A.
“He’s probably going to Big Barney’s press party,” Pete said.
They got out of the car and ran across the nearly empty Miracle Tastes parking lot. When they reached the entrance, Bob kept watch as Pete and Jupe examined the door.
“Will you look at that security system?” Pete moaned.
All six of their eyes focused on a small electronic panel with a lighted keypad. It was located on the chrome wall beside the glass doorway. Just inside the door was a security guard’s station, but no one was there.
“He’s probably still making rounds,” Bob concluded. “Let’s make this snappy.”
From the look of the keypad, the Three Investigators decided that it worked something like their own security system at Headquarters. A special combination had to be entered on the keypad before the door would open. But who knew what would happen if the wrong codes were entered?
Jupe unzipped his small black leather case. “Luckily for us, I’ve been constructing an electronic lock combination decoder for weeks,” Jupe said. “Once I connect the decoder to the keypad, my device will read the combination. I’ve tried it at Headquarters and it works.”
Jupe quickly unscrewed the cover plate to the keypad and attached the decoder’s two alligator clips to two special wires in the security system. His heart was pounding. He flipped a switch, and after some beeps and flashes the decoder gave Jupe a combination of numbers.
“Okay, let’s try it,” Pete said, moving toward the door.
But Jupe grabbed Pete’s shoulder. “Wait! Something’s wrong.” Jupe nervously fiddled with the black decoder.
