Casey Templeton Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Gwen Molnar

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СКАЧАТЬ Columbia. There was no way to trace how or when they had arrived in Richford.

      Casey ate the last cookie, pushed his chair back, and put his feet on the desk. He thought about how the investigation was developing so far. His father and Hank, who knew more about computers than anyone in town and who had been hired by the police to assist in this particular case, had spent a lot of time in the Willson attic.

      “You look like you’re doing some pretty deep thinking, bro’,” Hank said, breaking into Casey’s reverie.

      Casey looked up. “I thought you weren’t coming home for supper.”

      “I’m not. I’m just here to check something on my computer.”

      Casey rubbed his chin. “Hank, I’ve been thinking …”

      His brother grinned. “Tell me something new.”

      “I know all about the posters and stuff in the Willson attic, but what else was up there? Can you tell me?”

      “I guess it’d be okay. Come to my room.”

      Casey got up and followed Hank to his bedroom. His brother took a seat at the computer, and Casey pulled up a chair next to him.

      “Whoever was using that computer in the attic,” Hank said, “bookmarked a number of sites. I downloaded files from a bunch of white supremacist and Holocaust-denial groups, including the National Alliance, the National Socialist Movement of Illinois, the Heritage Front, Skin-Net, the European Christian Defence League, and on and on. I also found out that the area Internet provider of all these is a technology centre in Idaho.”

      “What’s the worst thing you found up there besides what’s in the computer?”

      “That’s easy to answer — The Turner Diaries. A well-worn, heavily underlined copy.”

      “Hey,” Casey said, “that’s what those Oklahoma City bombing guys had.”

      “Yeah, it details a successful world revolution by an all-white army and the systematic extermination of blacks, Jews, and other minorities.”

      “Could that ever happen?”

      “The diaries say it could — and should,” Hank said. “And look at these.” He handed Casey a sheaf of papers. “These are transcripts of radio broadcasts by the book’s author, Andrew Macdonald, who was really William Luther Pierce, head of the National Alliance. He died in 2002, but his teachings are still widely followed. Between the book and these transcripts you can find out how to commit every kind of destruction. These guys use very sophisticated hate sites to showcase their racist and neo-Nazi ideas. They disrupt chat rooms and send thousands of unsolicited emails full of their views. And here’s where they really do a lot of damage. They use Internet forums as a low-cost, convenient recruitment tool.”

      Hank had found lots of emails addressed to “White Canada.” The server’s post office box was under the name R.U. Withus.

      “The Mounties have a watch on the post office box,” Hank said, “but there’s been no activity since the night of the attack on Mr. Deverell.

      Poor Mr. D., Casey thought, he was still totally out of it.

      “I gotta go, bro,” Hank said, slipping a memory stick into his pocket. “See you later.”

      Alone again and frustrated at not being able to help in the investigation, Casey reviewed everything he knew so far carefully. Then he thought about the scraps of paper he had used to light the fire in the Willson place. Had anything been written on them? He couldn’t recall.

      He did remember thinking when he first saw the long, thin brass screws going through the crossed boards that they weren’t the type a person could find just anywhere. For their science project he and Bryan had talked to the people at Sanford’s Hardware on Main Street in Richford. Mr. Sanford himself had brought out a catalogue and ordered the screws from it. Casey and Bryan had needed only six of the minimum order of a dozen. Maybe the other six had been sold locally. Perhaps the ones in the door were those very screws. If they were, it would mean two things: the screws had been put in the door recently, and someone at the hardware store might recall who had bought them. He wondered what excuse he could use to ask the staff at Sanford’s.

      Casey closed his eyes and focused on the night at the Willson house. Step by step he pictured everything that had happened: Mr. Deverell lying in the snow, his hunt for something to pull him on — the drapes! No one on the investigation team had seen them because Casey had burned them. But he had known when he pulled them open the afternoon of the attack that they had been new. And he could remember the pattern clearly. If he couldn’t trace the long brass screws, he might be able to find out who had bought the drapes and where. They would have been especially made for the Willson front window, he figured, because it was an odd shape — wide but not very high. He was pretty sure Richford didn’t have a store that made drapes.

      “Come to supper, Casey. Now!”

      Casey figured his dad’s loud, deep voice could be heard all over town.

      ”Coming!” he shouted, wishing Hank was eating at home for a change so his parents wouldn’t have just him to concentrate on. He put away his notebook, feeling pretty upbeat. At least he had a couple of ideas he could explore on his own.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      As they settled down to eat, Casey said to his mother, “I hate the drapes in my room. They must have been some girl’s. I’d like to choose my own.”

      “I wondered,” his mother said, “how long you’d put up with them. We’ll be going into Fraserville on Saturday. Why don’t you come and choose your pattern at Vance’s Draperies? I’ll put the ones you have now in the new guest room — when Dad finally finishes it.”

      Casey’s grandmother was coming for a visit as soon as the guest room was done, and Casey figured that might have something to do with how long his father was taking on the job.

      “Why not get them at Thrift Mart right here in Richford?” his dad asked. “Vance’s will be expensive.”

      “Not necessarily,” Mrs. Templeton said. “Casey has a corner window that’ll be tricky finding ready-made drapes to fit, and Vance’s is having a huge sale. We’ll come off just fine. And speaking of the guest room, Colin, I got a note from Mother today. She’s planning her Christmas itinerary and wants to visit us for New Year’s.”

      “Oh …” Casey’s father didn’t look happy.

      “Why not get Casey to give you a hand with the guest room?” his mother suggested. “You’d like to help your dad, wouldn’t you, Casey?”

      “Well … sure,” Casey said slowly. “What would I be doing?”

      “Mainly be a gofer and keep me company once in a while,” his dad said. “I’d be grateful. I hate working down there alone.”

      This was a side of his father Casey had never seen. “Well, sure, Dad. I’ll keep you company when I can. I’ll be free tonight after supper. I don’t have any homework that has to be done by tomorrow.”

      His father beamed, genuinely happy. “That’ll be great. СКАЧАТЬ