Ann Martin - Claudia And the Clue in the Photograph

"A ton of money!" Kristy said. "This is it! I'm sure of it. It’s the big break we've been looking for."

"All right!" I said. "I can't wait to show these pictures to Sergeant Johnson. He's not going to believe we cracked the case. We really have

proof this time." Mary Anne and I finished laying the photos out/ in order.

"We did it!" sang Jessi and Mal. They jumped up and started to dance around the room. "We did it! We did it!"

"Ahem." We stopped carrying on and looked up to see Janine, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. "Once again, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. I hate to be the one to tell you, but your deductions are based on invalid reasoning." "What?" all four of us said at once. "You have pictures of a woman removing numerous bills from the ATM, correct?" she asked. "And, judging from the dimensions of the piles she has accumulated, you think the pictures may show, that she's responsible for the robbery?"

"That’s right," I said, a little doubtfully. I was beginning to see that we'd gotten carried away, but I still wasn't sure where Janine was going with this.

'The largest denomination of bills in most ATMs is twenty dollars," Janine said. "So?" I asked. I still didn't get it. Janine picked up one of the pictures. "So this pile she has couldn't be worth more than several hundred dollars. And even if she was able to override the limit on withdrawals, it

couldn't be more than a thousand,” Janine said. "I'm sorry to ruin your case, but facts are facts." She put the picture down and folded her arms again.

"Oh," I said. "Now I get it." I blushed. We had definitely gotten more than a little carried away. At least I hadn't called Sergeant Johnson yet. That would have been pretty embarrassing.

"Cheer up,” said Janine. "Your reasoning may have been flawed, but your persistence is admirable. Keep it up! You may still figure it out."

"Thanks,” said Kristy, looking depressed.

"Yeah, thanks," echoed Mal.

"Claudia," said Janine, "aren't you supposed to be studying for that test?"

I nodded and glanced at my math book. I had been stuck in the middle of a hard problem before Mary Anne called me, and I wasn't too eager to go back to it.

"I'd be glad to help you," said Janine. "Let me know when you're ready." She left the doorway, heading for her room.

For a second, nobody spoke. I think we were too embarrassed.

"We should go," said Mary Anne finally. "We don't want you to flunk that test."

"Sorry for the false alarm," I said.

"That’s okay," said Kristy. "Hey, don't you

want to see the finished album before we go?" I could tell she was faying to cheer me up.

"Sure,” I said. We sat down on my bed and looked at what they'd put together that day. You know what? It was terrific. And seeing it did cheer me up. The cover had this great drawing: a map of Stoneybrook, with all the familiar places — downtown restaurants, the schools, our houses — drawn in. The title was written in a banner across the top, in what I recognized as Vanessa's best handwriting: A Day in the Life of Stoneybrook — An Album for Dawn.

And the pictures inside were perfect. There was something special about each one. "This is bound to make Dawn miss Stoneybrook so much that she'll hop on the next plane home," I said, closing the album. "You guys did a wonderful job."

My friends left after that, taking the album with them. And then Janine and I hit the books. She is great at helping me with my studying. By the time we had read through three chapters, doing all the problems' along the way, I felt prepared for my test. The only weird thing was that Janine seemed kind of distracted. She was fidgety, and she wouldn't look me in the eye. I thought maybe she felt bad about having to break the news to us that

our "proof' wasn't proof at all. Then again, maybe she was having boyfriend troubles. You never can tell with Janine. And anyway, I didn't have the energy to wonder about it. One mystery at a time is enough for me.

Chapter 14.

On Sunday morning, I woke up early. And as I lay there in my bed, watching a branch wave in the breeze outside my window, I thought about a dream I'd been having just before I woke up. In the dream, I was in my darkroom. Only it wasn't my regular patched-together, tiny bathroom-darkroom. It was a super-cool professional darkroom with every possible piece of equipment, and plenty of room for everything. In the dream, I was working at this huge enlarger, printing a picture that was as big as one of my walls.

I don't know what the picture was of. I only know it was huge.

I smiled as I thought of it, wishing I really could print pictures that big. You'd really be able to see every detail if you blew up a photo like that.

Then, suddenly, I sat bolt upright in bed. Every detail. That was it! If we really wanted

to use our pictures to solve the bank mystery, we'd have to be able to see every single detail of those photos. And blowing them up was exactly what I had to do. Of course, I couldn't blow them up as big as the picture in my dream, because I didn't have the equipment for that. But I could blow up parts of every picture — the parts that mattered.

I jumped out of bed and threw on my bathrobe. Then I headed downstairs and had a quick breakfast. The house was quiet, since nobody else in my family was up yet. After I'd stuck my cereal bowl into the sink, I ran back upstairs and changed into an old pair of jeans and my Sea City T-shirt. Then I sat down at my desk and grabbed a piece of cardboard. With my fattest, reddest magic marker, I printed DARKROM IN USE across it, and then held it up to admire my handiwork. Finally, I'd remembered to make that sign. It was important to put it up before Janine woke up and barged into the bathroom.

'Then I did one last thing before heading into the darkroom. I called Kristy. "I think I'm onto something," I said. "A whole new way to look at the pictures. And I may need help — or at least a few more pairs of eyes. Can you call everybody else and ask them to come to our meeting early tomorrow? Like, at two o'clock? If we figure anything out, we'll want to have

time to go to the police station."

Kristy agreed to let everybody else know, but she sounded doubtful about my new idea. "We've been over those pictures every which way, Claud," she said, yawning. I'd woken her up. "But if you think we might find something new, I guess It’s worth a try."

After I hung up, I grabbed my negative files and headed into the darkroom, taping up the sign on my way in. I set up my equipment and started right in to work. I worked for hours, printing picture after picture. I made blown-up copies of every photo I could. (I could only do the black-and-white ones, of course.) Then, when the prints were nearly dry, I brought them out into my room and stock them up in long rows along the walls. I paced back and forth, looking at each one. There was Mr. Zibreski, walking in front of the bank. There was the lady with the baby carriage. I examined each one closely.

My mother tapped on my door at one point to ask if I wanted some lunch, but I told her I was busy. I didn't feel hungry at all: I was too involved in my work.

But there was a problem. No matter how carefully I stared at the pictures, I still couldn't find any new dues. I needed more detail. At one point, as I was pacing around the room, I nearly stumbled over my camera bag. And

that’s when I had my next big brainstorm.

I pulled out my camera, checked to make sure I had film, and started clicking away. What was I taking pictures of? Well, this might seem crazy, but I was taking pictures of the pictures. It was the only way to focus in on parts of the photos I thought might give us some dues. I put my camera very close to some of the photos and shot pictures of smaller areas within them. When I developed the film, I would be able to blow up those areas even bigger. It may sound complicated, but it was really very simple.