Megan Stine - Long Shot

Everyone looked at the quiet, sullen coach. “Luke Braun? Never heard of him,” said Coach Duggan.

Powers looked confused. “But I saw your scouting report,” he insisted. “You said he was the next Magic Johnson!”

“No,” interrupted Jupe. “I said that. You see, Mr. Powers, Luke Braun doesn’t exist. I made him up and entered his name in Coach Duggan’s computer, knowing that you would read it. And knowing that you would send Michael Anthony — Barry Norman, here — to see him. We erased the file minutes after you left, Mr. Powers, so we know you were the only person who read the report. I’m afraid our proof is conclusive.”

Powers’s face looked suddenly tired and old.

“Is this true, Mr. Norman?” asked President Harper.

“I’d like to help you out here,” Barry Norman said. “But first I need some assurances that my role in this matter will be kept confidential. I’d like to propose a deal. My cooperation in exchange for your promise to keep my name out of the media coverage of the story.”

“Fine,” President Harper said. “If that’s the price of your information, I’m willing to pay it. Now tell me, are the Three Investigators right?”

Norman looked right at Powers and nodded. “Yes. John Hemingway Powers has been my client. He’s the one behind this bribery scheme.”

“All right, it’s true! So what?” Powers said almost proudly. “I don’t happen to believe there’s anything wrong with giving guys extra incentives to attend this fine school and join its basketball team.”

President Harper’s brow wrinkled as he scowled. “John, what you happen to believe is against every rule of college recruitment ethics.”

“It’s easy for you to sit up here and talk ethics,” Powers said. “You’ve only been here three years. You didn’t graduate from this school. You don’t know the traditions and the history. You didn’t see the good years. You didn’t have to watch the athletic program dissolve into mediocrity, watch as year after year talented players chose the big schools with the big names and the big TV coverage of their games. There had to be some way for me to restore this school to what it was — I knew you weren’t going to do it.”

“How long has this been going on?” asked President Harper.

“Only since you hired Duggan,” answered Powers. “The idea came to me when I heard the rumors about Duggan paying his players in Boston. Did I think it was true? I didn’t care. All I knew was that it sounded like a great idea. One thing I know: Money talks and people listen. I figured if the payoffs were ever exposed, Duggan would take the blame.”

“So that’s why you offered me more money for Duggan’s budget,” President Harper said. “Just to try to incriminate him further?”

“I had to, Chuck. When these kids started tailing Barry and asking my players lot of questions, I smelled trouble.” Then Powers turned his fierce stare on Pete. “Who would have guessed we’d recruit a detective?”

Pete didn’t know what to say.

“Powers, you’re an egotist and an embarrassment to the sport.” Duggan spat out the words.

“Wake up, Duggan,” Powers said, snapping his fingers like a hypnotist. “Champion teams are bought, not coached! Our team is in the play-offs for the first time in a decade. And we can win. All of you should be thanking me for that.”

President Harper looked so defeated that for a moment Jupe was almost sorry they’d solved the case.

“Well, Powers,” Harper said sadly. “It’s over.”

“That’s for sure,” the coach chimed in. “I’m kicking every one of your pets off the team, Powers.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Powers said. “The play-offs are tomorrow night. No one has to know about this.”

“We may be the best team your money can buy, John,” said President Harper, twisting a paper clip between his fingers, “but that’s not how I want our athletic program run. And please don’t tell me that you’re withdrawing your financial support for the gym, because I wouldn’t take any of your money now. This school has no use for you anymore.”

Powers stood up to give everyone in the room one last stare. Then he marched out.

“Thanks, you guys,” President Harper said, giving the Three Investigators a weak smile but a firm hand-shake. “This school is about to go through a tough, embarrassing time. But at least we’ll be able to take some pride in exposing our problems and fixing them ourselves instead of covering them up.”

“Well, it sounds like you had fun while I was skiing,” said Kelly. “But come on, guys. Tell me the truth. There never was a Porsche, was there?”

Pete gripped the wheel of the Ark. After he abandoned the Cadillac at the scenic lookout a week ago, the police had towed it to an impoundment lot. It had cost Pete $80 to bail it out that morning — cash he really hated to lose since he’d already returned the $4000 in bribe money to Powers. Now the Ark was taking his friends to the Shoremont basketball play-off game. “I don’t want to talk about the Porsche, okay?” Pete said.

“Okay,” Kelly said, and waited a beat. “But just tell me why this Michael Anthony guy blew it up.”

Pete groaned.

“John Powers probably had him pay someone to blow it up,” corrected Jupe from the back seat. “It was really Powers’ car to begin with.”

“But why blow it up?”

“Because Barry Norman knew we were getting close to him,” Jupe explained. “It was a totally avoidable mistake on our part. When we were tailing Barry Norman, we thought we were keeping our distance. However, when you’re driving a $45,000 sports car and tailing the person who owns it, you have to stay back an extra long way. We just weren’t careful enough. After the meeting yesterday, Norman admitted to me that he saw the car parked at his country club when we followed him. So he took us on a wild-goose chase.”

“Really?” Pete said. “So that’s why he drove to Costa Verde College — just to make us think maybe he was working for Bernie Mehl. I guess that’s why he never called me that Saturday — when you made me stay home all day waiting, Jupe!”

“I’ll bet he saw the car when you were parked near his office building, too,” said Bob.

“Yes,” Jupe said with a sigh. “Similar mistake, similar results. That’s why Norman never showed up that afternoon. In fact, the whole time we were waiting for him, he was watching us . And busily dialing his friendly neighborhood explosives expert on his car phone, I suspect. Norman would never admit that he masterminded the car bombing. But I’m fairly certain he followed us to the party. Then some pyrotechnic genius planted the bomb, made the phone call to Pete, and pushed the button on a remote control. Pretty elaborate scare tactics, if you ask me.”

“ Overkill? ” Bob asked.

“Ouch.” Jupe winced.

“I like the romantic part about this case,” Kelly said.

“What romantic part?” Pete said, looking confused. “I mean the beautiful young woman having lunch with Barry Norman. And then she turned out to be John Powers’ daughter! That’s so... so... cinematic!”

“Yeah, well, according to what Norman told me yesterday,” said Jupe, “there’s going to be bloodshed when Powers finds out Norman has been dating his daughter. Especially since that’s what tipped the whole case for us.”

Pete pulled into a parking space in the Shoremont College parking garage. He quickly went around to Kelly’s door and yanked it open on the second try.

“Maybe it just needs a little work on the hinges,”

Bob said encouragingly.